Little Fishing Girl
by alltheotherkidswiththebooks
Summary: Absidee Odair is the cousin of the infamous Finnick Odair, who is also her closest friend. But will this help her when she gets chosen for the Hunger Games?
1. That Little Dinky Boat

_"Got some thoughts in my chest, they're playing games with my head." — **Foster the People, Chin Music for the Unsuspecting Hero**_

* * *

The waters aren't disrupted at all today. They move backwards and forwards, tiny waves splashing down onto the shore, with an almost leisurely pace. I'd be happy to sit here all day, just watching the waves lap up and down against our beaches.

Which is what I would be doing at this rate, seeing how late Finnick was.

I flop onto the sand, so I'm just lying on my back and looking up at the sky. It's a particularly sunny day today here in District 4, so I squint my eyes against the sun.

I let out a huff of irritation, and sit up again, grabbing one of the pebbles from around me and chucking it into the ocean.

'You'll kill the fish if you do that, you know,' I hear a voice from behind me.

'Where the hell have you been?' I say, rubbing the pebble which I hold in my left hand with my fingers, feeling it's comfortable smoothness. I slip it into my pocket, wanting to keep it. It also calms me a little, I suppose.

'Someplace else.'

'Obviously. I did realise you weren't here.' I say with attitude.

'Dee, I'm here now, okay?' says Finnick, settling himself beside me.

'I suppose it's better late than never.' I say in an unconvincing tone. I'm still p-ed off at him.

'You're correct,' he smiles down at me. 'You can never stay mad at anyone, can you?'

I guess he's right, so I don't say anything.

He stands up and begins to walk along the beach. 'Well, we might as well get going.'

'Oh, yes. I'd almost forgotten we were actually meant to be doing something today…'

'I wasn't that long.'

'I think I may have aged a little, actually.'

'Obviously.'

'OK, I'll stop going on.'

'About time.'

We walk towards the pier, where our little dinky boat, which we take out every Saturday and the last Friday of the month, is tied.

We do a bit of fishing, but we spend the majority of our time just lying there, looking at the sky, or talking. We talk about lots of things; how our week's been, all the kind of stuff like that.

Then we sometimes talk about more risky subjects, such as what we'd do if the districts of Panem never existed, or if we all lived in harmony with eachother. We also fantasise about other worlds, worlds with no hunger, pain, oppression. We sometimes even dream up our own ideal world.

But today we stick to the safer subjects. I divert to one which I know Finnick'll like.

'How's Annie?' I say, and grin.

'Annie, my friend, is fine, actually.'

'Your friend?' I say with a raised eyebrow.

'Yes, my friend.' Finnick replies firmly.

'I've seen you around her, Finnick,' he shakes his head. 'I'm not stupid, Finnick Odair.'

'You may not be stupid, but you're delusional, Absidee Odair.'

I frown, annoyed. 'I'm not.'

'Whatever you say.' Finnick says, and leans back, closing his eyes.

I do the same. It's extremely peaceful, the gentle rocking of the boat. I let myself fall into it's rhythm.

So yes. Finnick and I share the same surname. We're cousins. And it's not as if it's not obvious, either. We look extremely similar. With the same sandy coloured hair, and the same golden tan. The similarities stop there, though, I hope. Finnick's known for being a ladies man whenever he's off in the Capitol, which disgusts me. He's honestly interested in them? Them, with their sadistic games? They may not have personally planned them themselves, but they're still the same people who show an avid interest in the games. They tune in every year, awaiting the best show yet. Not caring what happens behind the scenes, not remembering that the tributes – whom they bet on and when they're killed, merely shrug, and scout for the next winner amongst the other tributes – do have lives back at home. Perhaps they support their entire family? Who knows. And from the Capitol's eyes, who cares? Who cares for the family and friends who are left behind? The Capitol certainly don't.

Why would Finnick ever go for one of them? They're physically repulsive, and their morals are more than messed up.

Why?

I hear a snore, and sit up, to see Finnick snoring, one arm above his head. This makes me smile, but this smile disappears quickly.

Maybe he feels he owes it to them? Perhaps.

He was a tribute four years ago himself, but he didn't find himself in such a hard place as the rest of his competitors; the Capitol had loved him. They still do.

They'd showered gift upon gift on him, until he'd recieved the ultimate gift, his trident. The competition was soon over, he'd wiped out his opponents soon enough. I didn't like to think about that much, though. It was hard to imagine the cousin I so dearly loved in front of me, who was currently looking like the dead fish we so often catch in the bottom of our boat, killing multiple kids. I know he didn't have much choice, in fact he didn't have any choice. If he hadn't done it to them, they'd have done it to him.

It seems the most reasonable explanation. He must like Annie, but he feels he owes himself to the people of the Capitol.

Whereas it's quite the opposite, actually.

But I know others who didn't know Finnick in our district, perhaps even from surrounding districts, or the Capitol, would not see any reasons behind Finnick's womanising. They probably think he likes the 'exotic' women. Perhaps they think it is an Odair family trait?

I hope not.

The sun's going down, and I know we should be getting back soon. But I sit and watch as the pinky sky hovers above the see, the sun slowly sinking.

I reach over to Finnick and shake him gently.

'Wakey wakey, Finny.'

He stirs and opens one eye. 'OK, Sid.'

Oh dear lord, not that nickname again.

'Finnick, don't call me Sid, please, otherwise I'll tip you out of this boat, and you can swim back to shore.'

He grins widely. I don't. I hope he realises that was a serious threat.

We both get back to the shore with both of us inside the boat, though (surprisingly), and Finnick's just tying up the boat when I see a figure sat at the beach beside a fire.

I recognise her immediately with her long, dark hair. It's Annie Cresta.

'Finnick, you're going to like who's here.'

'Who is it?' he asks as he quickly finishes his knot with nimble fingers.

Now it's my turn to grin. 'It's Annie.'

'Please don't say anything stupid, Dee.'

'I won't. I'm off now anyway.' I begin to walk off down the pier, but I stop, turning on my heel, to look back at Finnick. 'Have fun. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Yes, I'll see you tomorrow.'

I shove my hands in my pockets, fumbling with the smooth pebble I got earlier. I walk off home, to our hut. It's next to Finnick's family's home. Of course, Finnick now lives in his house in the Victor's Village.

I shudder. Victor's Village. Are we supposed to be somewhat grateful for the houses the Capitol's built there?

Well, that's what the Capitol thinks.

At least our village is quite full. It's the opposite in District 12. Completely empty, aside from the one victor of 12 who's still alive. Haymitch Abernathy. The drunk who rattles about inside that house. I think he drinks to relieve himself of the pain. To forget the memories he sustained in the arena. I don't blame him.

Finnick says Haymitch is a good person though, and knows what he's talking about, with a clever mind for strategies. When he's not completely intoxicated.

Ever since his victory, which was 18 years ago, during the second Quarter Quell, which was a horrifying event in itself, so I'm told, there's been no victors from 12. They're too malnourished there, from what I see as I watch the Games every year. Haymitch must've tried at first, with his mentoring, but then gave up. Who wants to try and help two kids, then watch them die?

The second Quarter Quell, on the 50th anniversary of the Games, involved twice as many tributes. 48 in total. So Finnick must be right, Haymitch must be clever.

I open the door into my house, see that I'm not alone. Coby, my elder brother and Edrie, my 5 year old sister are sat with my parents around the dinner table.

'You're late, Dee.'

'Sorry. Finnick dosed off.'

'Where's the fish?'

'Finnick has it.'

I dump the shoulder bag I've been carrying with me, empty, onto the floor.

'And where is this troublesome nephew of mine?' my dad asks, but a smile is playing on his lips.

'Down at the beach still, I think.'

'I see. Come and sit down, Dee. Your food should still be hot.'

I take a seat. 'Thanks for dinner, Mum.'

'Don't forget who caught this fish,' Dad says warningly in a jokey tone.

'Of course. Thanks Dad and Uncle Conrad.'

Uncle Conrad is Finnick's dad. Him and my dad still go fishing every weekday, but with the bigger boats, and the whole crew of fisherman, who cater to the entire district, and the Capitol. They're part of one of the ten crews here in 4. But once every week, on the Sunday, they go fishing themselves, my dad and Uncle Conrad do.

Seeing as Finnick's rich now, Uncle Conrad only helps to bring in our weekly share of fish, as Finnick supplies him and the rest of the family with the money they need.

I tuck in, surprisingly hungry. I thought me and Finnick hadn't been out for that long. Obviously not.

'So who's Finnick with?' my brother says. He and Finnick get on well, and he always likes to have a bit of banter going with him everytime he sees him. But nothing like how close me and Finnick are. We're really good friends, which is quite odd for cousins, I suppose.

I remember what Finnick said earlier about not saying anything, and I think he'd probably not appreciate me telling the family. My brother'd tease him more than ever.

'I don't know, Coby.'

'Come on, he can't be down there by himself, Absidee.'

'Finnick does like his peace sometimes,' I say quickly.

There's a knock on the door, and Mum glances out the window.

'Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear,' she says with a small smile.

'I'll get it. He's probably got the fish.'

My parents nod, and I leave the table, and open the door.

'Hello, Dee. I've got the fish.' He holds up a bucket in one hand.

'Good haul?' I ask, not remembering how much we caught earlier.

'Pretty good, yes.'

He hands me the bucket, and I smile appreciatively. 'Are you sure you don't want any?'

'Yes I'm sure.' He replies.

'OK. You'd best go now, Finn, the peacekeepers will be doing their rounds soon.'

'I'll see you then.'

'Yup,' I say and close the door.

I turn and around and grin at my family. '_More_ fish!'

We eat so much fish. But I'm not about to complain, out in other districts, they are lucky to have any food. Districts such as 12, 11, etcetera.

'Place it down there, Dee. Who knows, perhaps we could sell some to our neighbours.'

'I'll go out and do that tomorrow.'

'Can I come?' squeaks a voice; Edrie.

I groan, but agree. She holds me back, with her smaller legs and silly questions. But she also helps me sell the fish, with her cute smile. The neighbours like that.

After dinner I don't stay up for long, opting to instead head for bed. I lie on my bed, and stare up at the ceiling for a while. But I eventually drift off.


	2. What If?

_"You know it's funny how freedom can make us feel contained." __**— Foster the People, Waste**_

* * *

'How much fish do we have, Deeee?' Edrie asks, adding an obscene number of Es to my name, which I ignore.

'More than we need.'

'OK, Abby.'

'You know my name's Absidee or Dee, Edrie.'

'I like Abby. And Sid. And Dee.'

'I hate Sid, Edrie, you know that. Would you like it if I called you Ed?'

I hear a humming and see Edrie doing an overexaggerated hum. She does this for a while until she comes out with an extremely short answer for all the time she spent thinking about it. 'No,' she says.

We make our way towards another house. We've already sold a quarter of the bucket, which is quite good going.

Edrie knocks on the door, and plasters a huge smile on her face. The door opens, and she begins the little speech she's repeated at every door so far. 'Hello! I hope your day is good so far. Maybe I'll make it even better!' I cringe inwardly at this, but Edrie gets away with it, with her age and everything. The person at the door smiles, and Edrie continues. 'Would you like to buy some fish today?'

The trade of money and fish happens successfully, and as soon as the buyer of our fish closes the door, I ruffle Edrie's hair. 'Nice one,' I say.

We sell fish from door to door quite often when we have too much, which is helped both by Edrie's 'charm' and the fact that District 4 is one of the richest districts. If we lived in 12, and attempted to sell… I don't know, coal, I suppose, from door to door, I know we'd get nothing. Maybe something from the Mayor and his family, if they even needed coal. I have no idea.

We go to more houses, being rejected by some people, who have enough already, I assume, but the majority buy. Me and Edrie stick to the richer part of 4, which is closer to home, otherwise we wouldn't sell as well. Sadly enough, even in 4 we have some poorer families.

We knock at another door, but this time, instead of an older person answering, a younger boy does. He looks around my age, and reminds me of Finnick, with his perfect tan. But unlike Finnick, he has dark brown hair, and freckles which adorn his cheeks. He's quite handsome as well, I guess.

Edrie does her thing, whilst I just kind of stand there and admire this boy. I have nothing better to do, really.

We leave, after having sold him some fish, and are walking further into the district when we hear footsteps behind us, someone jogging to catch up with us.

'Someone selling some fish, eh?'

I sigh. 'Yes, Finnick.'

'I'll join you then.'

'We've nearly finished selling, but I guess you could be of some use.'

'Great.'

We go to a couple more houses, then decide to head to the poorer side of our district.

'Why are we going this way, Dee?' Edrie says.

'Everyone needs food Edrie.'

'But they don't buy anything down there, do they?' Edrie says, a confused expression upon her features.

'No, silly, we not selling there.'

'Then what are we doing?' Finnick asks.

'We're giving out fish. For free.'

Finnick nods. 'That's nice.' Edrie beams up at me, and I feel slightly uncomfortable.

'That's really really really lovely of you Dee!'

'It's only the right thing to do. Thank Finnick as well, he caught some fish too.'

'Thank-you, Finnick!'

'No problem, little cousin,' he grins and picks her up, which she loves. Edrie is quite thin, despite the good amount of food we eat, I notice. She's got a good metabolism.

We go to the poor, and give them their food, which they seem neverendingly thankful for. Again, I feel a bit discomforted at their thank yous. I haven't done anything that great, really.

After we've finished, we head back home. Our home is closer to the shore, overlooking the sea. It's a great view, and we're right on a small cliff. Finnick's home in which he 'lives', he really spends the majority of his time either at my family's home or his own family's, is just down the hill, where the Victor's Village is. He gets a house right next to the beach, which I love. I could spend all day either sat on the beach, or sat on Finnick's porch in a rocking chair. What a way to live that'd be. But I can't do that, sadly.

'Edrie, can you go back home with the fish and the money?'

'OK, Dee!' Edrie says, and scampers off with a near empty bucket of fish, and a bag full of money.

'Do you want to go to the beach?' I ask Finnick, and he only takes a couple of seconds to reply eagerly.

'Of course,' he says. 'When wouldn't I want to?'

I remember he used to reject my offers to go to the beach sometimes, but that was before his Games. I think he likes to appreciate life a lot more now, to admire the beautiful scenery in which he lives.

We reach the beach a few minutes later, and both of us fall down onto the sand quickly enough.

'It's so beautiful, isn't it?' I say with a sigh.

'Yes, it is,' Finnick says, before casting me a strange look. 'I didn't think you were one for scenery, Dee. I remember you used to mock me when I raved about the scenery. Sometimes you still do.'

I smile briefly. 'Well, I might as well make the most of it. I could be gone by next Sunday, for all I know.'

'Don't say that.'

'Come on, Finnick. It could happen.'

'The district is huge. It's unlikely. If you do get picked anyway, someone could volunteer for you.'

'Right, Finn.'

I still worry. What if I do get picked? What if no one volunteers for me?

'You must be one of the rare people in this district. Many would love to be reaped as one of the two tributes for our district. They'd love to represent the district.'

'You're right, I am.'

There's a few moments of silence.

I say it. 'But what if I do get chosen, and no one volunteers.'

Finnick gives a heavy sigh, and stares down at the ground. 'You would have a chance. You go to training every month just as everyone else does. You can fish. You can make little fishhooks. You'd be okay.'

'But if I wasn't?' I say, but I know I'm pushing it.

'Dee, please don't talk about this. Can we stop?'

'Okay.' I say quietly, and begin to think of another topic of conversation to break the now awkward atmosphere. A few moments later, I think I have it.

'So when are you next going to the Capitol? On the day of the reaping?'

'No. This coming Wednesday, actually.'

'Why? Can't they wait?'

'I'm sorry,' he says, and I can tell his apology is genuine.

'How long will you be there?'

'For the rest of the week. I'll be back for the reaping, though.'

Dammit, Finn, I think.

'Dammit, Finn.' I also say it.

'I'm really sorry, I am.'

'Don't worry.' I reassure him, but I don't quite understand myself. Doesn't he choose to go into the Capitol? If he's really that sorry, why doesn't he just stay, it's only a week until the Hunger Games, anyway.

The 68th Hunger Games. It's his third time mentoring this year, as he's the latest male victor. After you win the Hunger Games, you have to mentor for the first five years, then after that, the tributes themselves will be able to pick their own mentor. Well, at least in the career districts tributes can. Not in 12, with their one victor who's alive.

I've only got 6 slips with my name written on them this year, the minimum amount you can have for my age, as I am lucky with the amount of food we get in my house.

The sky's getting darker and darker by the minute, so I know I should be getting back soon, unless I want to get a talking to from the patrolling peacekeepers.

'Bye, Finnick.' I say, standing up to leave. 'I'll try and see you after school tomorrow. If I don't, then I'll see you at the reaping, I suppose.'

He gives me a curt nod, and smiles. 'Bye, Dee. I'll be seeing you soon enough, okay? We can go fishing once I get back from the Games.'

'It's a deal.'

I walk off to my home, and notice the drop in temperature, and wrap my jacket around myself a bit more. I won't be seeing Finnick for a while. It gets me down, but I'm okay. It's not as if I don't have other friends. Right?


	3. Trained to Kill, Murder, and Maim

_"Well I might break but you can't tell me that I'm not strong enough." —__** Mark Foster, Sorry Little Lucy**_

* * *

It's the day before the reaping, and a Saturday. This means, training day. It's a mandatory exercise for everyone of the ages 10 to 18. But all of us who attend this day aren't even the full on people. There's the kids of our district who are hardwired to be Careers. They go to the voluntary meeting every Saturday, where they train to become killers. Some of them are absolutely ruthless.

We're all gathered in the large training centre, and there's so many of us. It's a surprise we even fit in here.

I'm not here by myself, though. Coby is stood beside me, as he's 18, and still eligible to be reaped.  
We won't be together for long though, as we're all split up into our age groups to train.

I have a go at the spear throwing. It's similar to fishing, which helps me feel a little better. I despise these training days, personally, for the actual purpose we do them. We do them so we can learn how to kill, to murder, or perhaps, in some extreme cases, torture.

I can see Coby across the large room shooting a bow and arrow. It's a skill he's picked up over the years, not that it's useful in this district, unless you plan on throwing an arrow at a fish, which isn't such a great idea in the first place.

In my age group there's a few of my friends. Lena, Haidy, Taryn and Dale. I ignore them though, as I don't really want to see them putting all their effort into chopping dummy's heads off, or shooting an arrow right into the place where a heart would be.

I continue to chuck spears for a couple more minutes, before taking time out on the sidelines. I see the boy I sold the fish to the other day sat with his friends, taking timeout as well. I don't stare at him though, as I did the one time I spoke to him. It's just a bit creepy, isn't it.

The training drags on for a while, but eventually ends, much to my delight. As I get up to leave, I see something that perks up my interest for a few seconds. It's my brother with a girl. A girl with whom he seems particularly happy. 'Ah,' I say, and smile.

I manage to bump into Coby on the way back, and the girl's gone by the time I do. 'So,' I begin. 'How was training?'

'Great,' he says through his smiles. He's still smiling? Honestly.

'I saw you.' I say slowly.

'You did?'

'Yes. With that girl. What's her name?'

'Lani.'

'Nice name,' I comment, and wonder if he's picking up on why I'm asking.

'Do you like her?' I ask innocently.

'Lani? She's pretty, but I don't like her.'

'Yet.' I add. At this Coby gives me a glare, but doesn't say anything.

* * *

I sit on the grassy cliff just outside our house and stare out at the sea. I would be out fishing now, by myself, but we have enough fish to last us for quite a while anyway, so it'd just be a waste.

I shuffle forwards and dangle my feet over the edge of the cliff. It's a small drop into the sea, but it'd hurt a lot nonetheless, so I'm careful.

I sit like this for what feels like hours, but it must have only been one at the most, as the sun has yet to go down. No one disturbs me, which I like. I just sit and think. I don't think about the reaping, or anything to do with the Games. I think about what it'd be like to be a fish. A bit of a strange thing to think about, it seems, but it's oddly relaxing.  
I think about what it'd be like to weave in and out of the seaweed all day, to not be restrained, to be able to do as you please. To be a free swimming fish.

I'd love it.

I manage to fall asleep whilst immersed in my thoughts, but I wake up early the next morning in my own bed. My dad must've carried me in last night.  
I appreciate it.  
I ignore that it's the reaping today, and I just attempt to feel free. Like a fish.


	4. A Dreary Nightmare

_"You know those days when you just want to choose to not get out of bed, you're lost in your head again." — __**Foster the People, Helena Beat**_

* * *

I don't spend long in bed, deciding instead to get dressed quickly into simple shorts and a floaty blouse. I don't dress into my best clothes yet, as I plan to head down to the beach for a while, and do something I haven't done for a few weeks.

No one else in the house is awake, so I creep out of the front door, a bag hanging off my shoulder, which holds my towel. The district is extremely quiet at this time, it always is, and no peacekeepers are on patrol yet, which is nice. As I walk down the hill toward the beach, I can see a small figure curled up. I get my hopes up for a second, hoping for it to be Finnick, but as I get closer, I realise it's not, from the long hair which ripples in the wind. Once I'm entering the beach I see the figure is Annie Cresta. She's just sat there staring out at the sea with a serene look upon her face. As I near her, I can tell she still hasn't noticed I'm here.

'Hi, Annie.'

She starts from the surprise of hearing my voice, when she'd obviously thought she was completely alone.

'Hello,' she replies shyly, looking up to see who this trespasser upon her daydreams are (aka me).

'I'm sorry I scared you.' I smile apologetically at her, and she shrugs, and turns to stare out at the sea again, the waves gently lapping onto the shore.

'Oh, don't worry. I needed kicking out of my dreamy state anyway,' she pauses to look at me again. 'You must be one Finnick's cousins.'

I smile widely. 'You're correct. How did you know?'

'You look quite similar.'

'I'm offended,' I joke, and she gives a small laugh. 'Do you mind if I put my bag here? I won't bother you or anything, I'm going elsewhere.'

'Oh, it's fine,' she waves her hand airily. 'I realise I never asked your name though, which is quite rude of me.'

'Absidee. I'm Absidee Odair.'

'You have a nice name,' says Annie.

'The beginning or the end of it?' I say teasingly, and I can't help wondering if she likes Finnick when her cheeks tinge with pink, which she tries to hide with her hair.

'The beginning, of course! I'm Annie Cresta, it's nice to meet you.'

'It's nice to meet you too,' I say, before adding; 'You didn't need to tell me your name, though. I've heard it enough from a certain someone.' Finnick's going to kill me. Assuming someone else doesn't, if I'm reaped.

Yes, that's still playing on the back of my mind. It was nice to forget it's reaping day for a while, and now a feeling of dread has seeped back into me, so I know I should delve into my own world soon. A world I know so well.

'I'll see you another day, Annie,' I say, before she can get over her embarassment from what I said before. She definitely likes Finnick. I wonder what she thinks about his parading around the Capitol.

I drop my bag onto the ground beside Annie, and begin to jog towards the sea. I feel the sand between my toes, it's substance getting wetter and more sticky with every step I take closer to the sea. This is my world. This is where I belong. I belong where the air smells of the salt, where fresh fish isn't hard to find, provided you have the skill, I belong where you can just sit and stare out into the sea for hours, wondering what kind of land lies beyond all we know. Maybe there's more than Panem? I doubt the Capitol would want us to know that, though.

I run into the water, leaving my fears and the feeling of dread behind with the land. The cool spray splashes up my legs, and it's more refreshing than any cold shower you could ever have, even in the highest heats of the summer.  
As soon as the water's deep enough, I dive straight in. This is where I am free, free from everything.  
From responsibilites, from bad memories, from anything that could harm me.  
Unless you count the sharks, which I don't, as they'll ignore you if you keep your distance.

I stay in the water for half an hour, lying either on my back, or delving into the waters themselves. I know I should be getting ready soon when I see the peacekeepers begin the patrols, so I reluctantly pull myself away from the waters I so crave, and head back up to Annie again and grab my bag off the ground, wrenching it open to pull the towel I stowed in there earlier out.  
If it were later in the day, I'd be able to just warm up in the heat of the sun, seeing as we're quite a bit into the summer now.

'I'm off to get ready now.' I say.

'OK. I'll see you at the reaping, then.'

'Yeah, I suppose you will. Bye Annie, and good luck.'

She knows what I mean when I say good luck. Doesn't every person of reaping age today need a bit of luck?

'Same to you, Absidee,' she smiles. 'May the odds be ever in your favor.'

I cringe at the Capitol's overused phrase, which they brought out every year. They also insisted on saying 'Happy Hunger Games', as well, which I find ironic and somewhat disturbing. 'Thank you Annie.'

* * *

'You look lovely Absidee,' my mother says as she tucks a part of my naturally wavy hair behind my ear.

'Thank you Mum.'

Coby walks in, and my mother begins to gush over him instead, which I appreciate. But before long, she's trying to pull me into the conversation.

'Doesn't your brother look handsome, Absidee?'

'Er… yes.'

She opens one arm out to me, and beckons me over. 'My gorgeous children, come here.' And then we're stood in a hug for what seems like forever.  
But I like it. It's rare, and it's nice. Heartwarming.

The siren rings out across our district, and I know it won't be long before the peacekeepers come and check the houses.

We all head to the square, every one of us Odairs. Uncle Conrad joins us with Finnick's brother and sister, cousins Belva and Antony. Belva is two years younger than I, 15 years old, whereas Antony is the same age as me. We all nod in acknowledgement of each other.

I do have more cousins, but they're either younger or older than reaping age.

I remember, my first two years at the reaping, Finnick used to join us on the walk to the square as well, but now, as he's a mentor, he has to be at the square a long time before the reaping starts.  
I also remember when his name was pulled out of that bowl. How his life was changed forever when that happened. I also remember how I felt. I was horrified, my closest friend was going to be taken away from me. I can't even begin to imagine how he felt, how his parents felt.

We all file into our places, have our blood taken, and I stand there and wait, in my place, which is the 17 year olds. I can see my mother, father and Edrie from where I am. I also see Finnick, who is positioned on the stage, staring down at the ground. He hates the reapings. He hates knowing that these kids he meets today could be dead within 2 weeks.

And then it all begins.  
My mind goes off on a tangent, reverting to the memories of the cool water against my skin, the pleasure of swimming.

Soon enough, far too soon, it's time for the tributes for this year to be chosen. It's time.

'Girls first!' a perky voice says. It's Coco Nightingale, who reads our tributes out every year. What a strange name, honestly.

She plunges her hand into the huge bowl, which must contain thousands of names, and pulls a piece of paper, which holds one extremely unlucky person's name. She begins to unfold the card, and I feel queasy all of a sudden. I just want it to be over.  
Hurry up, I will her.

I don't hear what she says. It's just a foggy voice to me.

She says the name again.  
And this time I hear it.

'Absidee Odair?'

It takes all my energy not to faint right there on the spot.  
I hear a cry from the far side of the square, and it sounds like Edrie. I want to run over there, tell her it's alright, that she'll be ok, but I can't. Everyone's staring at me now, so I try and walk. It's almost as if I've forgotten, but I regain my memory quickly enough.

The peacekeepers guide me up to the front stage, where I can see Finnick again. He's buried his head in his hands, and I bite my lip. It's going to take all my strength not to cry right here. I'm going to die a gruesome death in the arena and leave my family behind. I know it.

I stand there, up on that stage, not knowing where to look.  
Into the staring eyes of everyone in the district? Into the pain filled eyes of my family, just below? Or at Finnick, who's hurting is obvious to everyone.

The boy tribute is being chosen now, and I wish I could just fall into an eternal sleep right now. Right here. I wish I could just dream forever, dream of swimming, of laughter, of happiness.

'Finnegan Goldsmith!'

I pray for this person. I pray that they win, as I know I have very little, if no chance of winning. I've already kind of accepted my death, somehow.

The boy approaches the stage. He looks around my age, and reminds me of Finnick, with his perfect tan. But unlike Finnick, he has dark brown hair, and freckles which adorn his cheeks. He's quite handsome as well, I guess.

Oh god.  
It's the boy I sold the fish to.


	5. Non Existent Privacy

_"Sometimes life, it takes you by the hair, pulls you down and before you know it's gone and you're dead again." **— Foster the People, Helena Beat.**_

* * *

Well, there it goes. The last bit of freedom I had left. It's not even as if I had that much freedom anyway. Sure we can, or shall I say, could, fish, but we had our designated areas nearer to the shore than the boats which caught the fish for the Capitol and the entire district, for the market.

My mind is crazy at the moment, loads of different ideas entering my head.

Run away, away from this place, my mind tells me. But I know I can't. That would only result in my family being pained, all because of my trouble. Besides, they'd catch me soon enough. Either way I'm going to be executed.

You'd have a chance if you ran now, my mind taunts me with its strings of thought. Either be executed neatly, or even live still, albeit roughly, or go to a bloody, torturous arena, where your odds of surviving are 1/24, and when (not if, but when, I notice is stuck in my mind. I'm absolutely certain I'll be killed) you get killed, it'll most likely be extremely painful, perhaps even drawn out.  
What do you want?

I want my family to be safe. That's what I want.  
They'll get over losing me soon enough. We're not poor, and my family are not reliant on me. Finnick will be there for them when I do pass. But who will be there for him?

Perhaps I can do an alliance with the fish-buying boy, whose name has slipped my mind in my shock and stress, an alliance where I'll do all I can to keep him alive, as long as he helps my family when I do die.

We shake hands, and when I look up at his face, I see his face is as white as a sheet. I wonder if mine's the same.

I most likely do look like my district partner, so my mind wonders elsewhere.

To the sea. I seem to do this a lot when I worry. The smell, the gentle lapping of the sea against the sand. It calms me so much.

But even now it doesn't help.  
My daydream is tainted by horrors. A shark catching me in it's jaws. Like how the Capitol has. It's caught me in it's jaws for the rest of my life.  
Me as a fish, being reigned in by a huge net. Like how the Capitol has. It's caught me in it's huge net of doom, and now it's reeling me into a certain death.

We're both lead into the Justice Building for our district and into separate rooms away from each other.

I look around the room. It's nice, a lot nicer than many of the houses I've ever seen in my lifetime. I feel like screaming there and then, but I keep my calm, for my family's, who should soon be entering soon, benefit. No doubt, that if the screams fall out of my mouth, tears will soon drip in streaming waterfalls down my cheeks.

The door opens, and my family burst in. Mum, Edrie, Coby and Dad. Tears stain Edrie's small face, and my heart wrenches. I note that Coby and Dad have tried to stay strong, no doubt for Mum and Edrie. Mum's eyes are red, but don't look about to overflow.

I'm going to miss you all so much, I think.

'You have five minutes,' a strict sounding voice says through the door. It must be one of the peacekeepers. In my emotional state I feel like telling him to do one, but I know that'll just make the situation worse.

'Absidee...' my dad says slowly, and I can see the pain in his eyes.

It seems none of them have many words on their tongues at the moment, as silence fills the space, but we all clash into each other moments later. A huge hug of sorts occurs, and it takes all my strength not to burst into tears there and then.

'You can win this,' Coby finally says as we all break apart.

I don't want to hurt my family anymore, so I say nothing.

I hug everyone separately, and whisper loving words to them, words which should calm them.

The peacekeeper raps on the door with his knuckle, and slowly they begin to leave. I wish they never would, but if they beg and plead to stay, or even refuse, they'll be given a punishment. Whether it be big or small, they'll have one, for sure.

Coby hugs me again, and whispers in my ear. 'I would've volunteered for that boy, so I could protect you in the arena, but one look at Dad's face, and I knew I couldn't.'

'I would've never forgiven you if you did. They need you, Coby. You're safe from the reaping now. Have a family in a few years. Make them the happiest people alive, somehow—'

'Are you really that certain you'll die, you have a chance, you know, you can catch fish, and make fish hooks, which should be useful somehow—'

I cut him off. 'Thanks for everything Coby. Thank you so much.'

He's forced out by peacekeepers, and my friends rush in. I know it'll be quick.  
They say their last goodbyes and tell me that I can win. But I've already made a deal with myself to protect my district partner. I'm set on it.

They leave soon, after a teary goodbye on their behalf, and I'm just sat there waiting.

Finnick won't be able to come in, will he? Mentors aren't allowed to see their tributes until they're on the train to the Capitol, in case of some unfair advantage occurring.

I hear some jostling outside, and then someone slides in through the door, before a peacekeeper from outside reluctantly shouts '5 minutes, OK? Then—'

I don't listen to the rest of his sentence.  
I run up to Finnick and give him a body crushing hug.

Perhaps he was my best friend, after all. I don't want to think about it at this moment in time though, there are other things to be said. It's a time for personal goodbyes and words. The world of the games begins on the train to the Capitol.

'Finnick,' I breathe.

'Absidee, I never even thought this would happen... how?'

'I have no idea. I suppose the odds aren't really in my favour this year, eh?' I make an attempt at a joke, but this just makes me feel even worse.

'I will do everything I can to make sure you win these games, and when I say anything, I mean anything. You're my closest friend I've ever had, you know, Dee.'

'I know. The same goes for you, Finnick. But, please, send all the gifts from sponsors I get to my district partner.'  
If I even get any, I think.

'Why? Dee, you will need gifts at at least one point in the games, you know that. I can't just leave you to die in pain from hunger, or whatever it may be, I won't be able to do that.'

'I'll go without.'

'No, you won't,' and then it dawns on Finnick. 'You want to keep your district partner alive...'

He runs his hands through his hair, pulling at strands of his hair.

'No, don't do that—' I say, and Finnick stares up at me with tormented eyes.

'Have you even spoken to this boy before?' he breathes heavily, lingering on every word.

'Well, I sold him fish once, but that doesn't matter. He has much more chance than me of winning, and it'll be best for the entire district if he does. So I have to protect him... do you understand?'

'I honestly can't fathom what you're saying, Absidee. Of course you have a chance of winning.'

I open my mouth to reply, but I have no time to, as two peacekeepers enter, to usher us to the train.

'We must inform you that your conversation in the room was recorded, for this young lady's district partner's benefit.'

This earns the peacekeepers a deadly glare from Finnick, but he doesn't dare do anything else.  
He does mutter under his breath, though, saying 'What is privacy to us mere people of Panem anymore?'

'Look, Odair, it doesn't exist,' the peacekeeper to my right snaps.

I wonder what he means by that. Cameras at the beach? Or worse, in our own homes?  
No, surely the Capitol wouldn't go that far to ensure a rebellion didn't break out again.  
But when something like the Hunger Games exists, you just don't know.

We walk onto the train, where I see my district partner sat, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair.


	6. An Exterior Act

_"Strange life I live, but it's what you've decided." __**— Foster the People, I Would Do Anything For You**_

* * *

I don't speak and keep my eyes firmly rooted on the ground. I know that I can't be coming across well right now, but I don't really care at this point in time. I'm still shocked with what occurred less than half an hour ago.

It's just me and the boy from my district, as Finnick and the other mentor for us have gone elsewhere for a while.

'Well,' the boy says. 'This sucks, doesn't it?'

'Quite,' I manage to say in reply.

I wonder if he remembers me.

'I'm Finnegan,' he says, and extends his hand to me.

'Absidee,' I say, and shake his hand with little force.

I'm feeling extremely subdued at the moment, but think I should be alright after some time to sort out my thoughts on the train.

'So you're Finnick Odair's cousin?' I nod and Finnegan sighs. 'I guess I have near to no chance of winning then.'

I look him up and down. He looks quite strong, stronger than the average person, anyway. He obviously has a chance of winning.

'Of course you do.'

'Come on, Finnick's charm is nothing against the little strength I have and my skill with knives.'

'I've already talked to him,' I say curtly in reply.

'I thought that wasn't allowed?'

'It was a more personal goodbye than sorting out a strategy,' I say coolly, staring out the window as the scenery wizzes past. I can see the sea, and murmur a quiet goodbye to it. Finnegan doesn't notice, luckily. He'd probably think I'm off my nut, saying goodbye to the sea. He'd mark me as an easy opponent and kill me before I could even begin to protect him. He did mention his skill with knives, after all.

'Okay.'

I notice that I may seem a bit hostile at the moment, so I decide an apology is best, even if this boy might end up killing me some way or another. 'I'm sorry, okay? It's just a shock. I know it's the same for you, too, and you probably feel worse as I am related to one of the mentors. But you do realise Finnick wouldn't deliberately cut you out of getting supplies in order to just keep you alive? He does have a heart, you know.'

'It's fine. I never thought that though, and I didn't mean to imply it.'

A door just opposite us slides open mechanically and Finnick and the other mentor enter. She's a girl who looks in her late twenties, and she's wearing a light, summery dress which just scrapes her knees. She looks so sweet and kind, that I think for a second she can't be a mentor. How could someone like that kill others? Maybe it's just an exterior, and she's actually a mean killing machine. I remember the phrase 'Don't judge a book by its cover'. I don't seem to remember this mentor's games, though.

'Hello,' Finnick begins, and me and Finnegan both look up. 'I'm Finnick Odair, and this is Selene Woodakre. We will be your mentors for these games.'

Psh, as if Finnick needed to introduce himself. He's known all over Panem now. It's nice to learn the woman's name, though. Selene sounds like such a peaceful name. This Selene seems serene all over, in fact, but I remember to be wary of an exterior act.

'I'll be mentoring you, Finnegan,' Selene says, which means that Finnick'll be mentoring me. I'm slightly glad. 'And Finnick'll be mentoring you, Absidee.'

'Ok,' Finnegan says, then stares at his hands for the next ten minutes, twisting them over and over in his lap.

I begin to worry for the times ahead, and just hope I can be killed quickly enough in these games, so my family won't be too hurt.

* * *

We reach the Capitol later that day and Coco shows us to our rooms, on the fourth floor of the huge building, which has a total of 12 floors. We, we being me and Finnegan, have short talks with our mentors, again I persuade Finnick to send some of my sponsor gifts to Finnegan, which he protests against for the second time, insisting that he's my mentor, not Finnegan's, and that he's intent on keeping his baby cousin alive. I then punch his arm, reminding him I'm only a year younger than him.

After the conversation I'm carted off to the Remake Centre. I'm plucked at, waxed, and many other things until I feel tingly all over. I did try to look after myself back in 4, so I'm not completely rabid looking, but it still takes a while for my prep team to finish the job off. Which gives me time to think, so I don't complain. I know what I'm going to try and do in these Games.

I'll stick to Finnegan, try to protect him as much as I can, for as long as I can, then eventually be killed. Which I don't mind, as long as Finnegan does his part to help my family. Which could be anything, I suppose. As I die, I'll try to tell him vaguely what I'd like him to do. Hopefully he'll listen to my death wish, as long as he survives until the end of the Games and wins. I hope that this year District 4 will have a winner.

Soon the prep team have me stand up in front of them, completely naked, so they can inspect me. I feel a little conscious, but not so much. I've lived in District 4 my entire life, it's quiet normal to show a bit of skin. It's natural.

The team give me a nod of approve and push me into another room. I assume this is where I'll meet my stylist. I feel slightly awkward now, as I'll be meeting him or her, completely naked. There is a dressing gown at my disposal, but what's the point? They'll probably have me strip down again soon enough.

A man walks in, and he looks in his mid 30s. Thin, and surgically altered in unbelievable ways. If I'd thought my prep team were the epitome of the Capitol, this is something else. His cheekbones stick out so much it's almost unnatural. His skin is powdered completely white, with tints of blue only on his cheeks. And then his eyes. They're insanely blue, it kind of hurts to look at them. His hair is a lighter shade of blue.  
I groan inwardly.  
I am going to look like a CLOWN.

I just hope that Finnegan's stylist has some idea what they're doing and has taken charge of the outfits for the tribute parade.

My stylist stands there, staring at me for a few seconds, then walking around to see me at a different angle, then doing the same again. He does this for five minutes.

'It's good this year. Something I can definitely work with,' he mumbles to himself.

I don't like how he refers to me as 'something', but don't speak. Finnick advised I don't talk much during the styling.

'An Odair, eh? Definitely something I can work with.'

I feel a shiver go down my spine, and I feel completely vulnerable, stood here naked whilst a strange, alien-resembling man evaluates me.

'Well, she's definitely a good looking girl,' he continues to murmur, and I feel a bit miffed. I am here, y'know. 'But that'd be expected I suppose, the cousin of Finnick Odair.' He snorts, which makes me cringe. He doesn't notice though, as he's too busy staring at the back of me.

'Right. Let's get you dressed, sweetie.'

I bite my tongue to try to restrain myself.

Ten minutes later, I'm completely dressed in my parade outfit, which is a nice wrap around dress, which is made out of blue, sparkling material, which shimmers in the light every time I move. The only downside to the outfit is the amount of skin it shows. But I don't complain, if it'll gain me sponsors, I'll do it. Well, as long as it's within my boundaries.

And anyway, it's not out of the norm for the older tributes to show off their assets during the parade, so I keep my mind off how covered I'm not.

My make-up is added to my face, and I'm glad that it's not too over the top, with more subtle tones. Aside from the blue eye shadow which would look quite hideous by itself, but goes well with the blue outfit I wear.

'Alright, darling, off you go,' my stylist shoos me off, and I'm glad to leave.

When I reach the area where every tribute waits, with both their stylists, district partners and mentors, Finnegan and his team are already there. So is Finnick. I notice my stylist is nowhere to be seen, and I don't mope over his nonappearance for a second.

'How did they treat you?' Finnick asks.

'The prep team were fine, I basically got lost in my own thoughts with them, but my stylist... cringy,' I say quickly, as I know the parade will be starting soon, from the way Finnegan's being fussed over by his stylist furiously.

Finnick frowns. 'How so?'

'Don't worry,' I brush it off quickly, but I know I'll probably have to explain later.

A Capitol girl runs (in heels, which is damned impossible, I swear. I can barely walk in the heels I'm in) up to us, and I wonder what she's here for.

'Finnick!' she squeals in her funny accent, and I can't help but pull a face. Oh.

I try to plaster a smile onto my face, realising just how moody I've been the last day. I won't gain any sponsors at this rate, no matter what Finnick does, which means I won't be any help to Finnegan at all. I can't seem to bring a real smile onto my features though, so I just use a fake smile instead.  
There. That suits my environment. The fake Capitol with fake people, fake appearances and fake personalities.

Finnick talks with the girl, looking confused. 'Why're you here, Fiala?'

'You know my father's a gamemaker, Finn.'

Did she just call him Finn? Even I don't call him Finn much! Jeez, these Capitol people.

'Yes, but I didn't think you'd be allowed,' replies Finnick.

'I just wanted to see you, Finnick,' the girl, Fiala, whines.

'I know, darling.'

Seems the people of the Capitol aren't the only fake ones here. I'd never heard Finnick call anyone 'darling' before. The way he says it reminds me of my stylist, and I feel sick.

Finnick wraps an arm around this girl, and I realise this must be what everyone talks about. Finnick Odair, who'll go through 4 girls sometimes during his regular trips to the Capitol.  
Not the Finnick I know. Not the Finnick I feel proud to call my cousin and my best friend.

I hear an loudspeaker announce that everyone will need to be loaded onto their chariots in five minutes, and I'm glad. I feel extremely nervous.

'Hey, Absidee?'

I turn and see Finnegan. His stylist has finally stopped fussing over him, it seems. She's done a good job though, to be fair. How he's been done up highlights his best features. He's also dressed quite similarly to me, but with suitable adjustments made, of course.

'Yes?' I say.

'Do you want to talk after this parade?'

That's an odd and extremely random request. Perhaps he wants to try and get rid of the friction we experienced earlier on the train.

'Um,' I stumble on my words. 'Of course.'

He flashes me a smile, which I find quiet charming, before mentally slapping myself.

NO.

'Get on the chariot, otherwise you'll miss your cue,' Selene says hurriedly.

Me and Finnegan both step onto the chariot, and wait.

District 1 go out.

Then District 2.

Then 3.

And then, it's us. District 4. We're pulled out into the blinding lights, and screaming crowds. Here's where it all begins.


	7. The Momentary Impulse

_"I took a problem, recently forgotten. I know who I had been before I slipped."__** — Foster the People, Miss You**_

* * *

The parade goes amazingly well. The crowd seem to like us, and appreciate our costumes. I mentally thank Finnegan's stylist.

I completely ignore Finnegan during the parade, as everyone else does with their partners. We do this because your partner is your opponent, after all, which means they have a chance of actually killing you, being the reason you fade from the world. And I have to admit, that does scare me.

As soon as the parade's over, our teams rush over and coo over our clothes, and 'how well, we did. Really all we did was stand there for an hour.

Finnick doesn't make a fuss, he knows I wouldn't like that. The girl who before hung off his arm is gone now, I notice.

Another thing I notice is that my stylist seems to have disappeared again.

'Where's my stylist?'

'He didn't come,' Coco says quickly.

'Why not?'

'He wanted to leave, he's extremely busy.'

What? Everyone in the Capitol clamours to be a part of the Hunger Games' preparation, or to be invited to one of the Games related parties. This guy must be extremely busy if he gives that up.

'Why?'

Coco chuckles and rolls her eyes. 'Oh dear Absidee. Your stylist just happens to be one of the most well known designers in the Capitol.'

Finnegan's stylist nods enthusically. 'It's been an honour to work with him,' she adds.

'And?' I slip out, and immediately feel awkward. I must seem so strange to these Capitol people. Their designers are like gods to them. Oh well, they seem extremely strange to me, too.

'Absidee, he asked especially to work with you. You should be very honoured, like Dinella said just then.' I assume Dinella is Finnegan's stylist, and I nod slowly.

'Why would he want to work with me?'

Coco lets out a laugh. 'Why wouldn't he?! Your cousin over there,' she gestures to Finnick, 'is so popular in the Capitol, that people were practically falling over themselves to be able to design for his cousin, you.'

It makes sense, I suppose. Everyone in the Capitol likes me because I'm Finnick's cousin. Right.

Well, hopefully that means that when I die, they'll be sympathetic towards my family.

Wait. Who am I kidding. Of course they won't be.

But I'll play along as Finnick Odair's likeable cousin for now. See how far it gets me.

* * *

'So where are we going to go?' I ask Finnegan as he guides me out of our room and to the elevator opposite our room's door.

We walk into the elevator and he presses the number 12 on the row of buttons inside. 'The top,' he says.

We're both changed out of our parade outfits now, and our faces are scrubbed clean of make up, which I'm glad of. The make up made me feel a bit dirty. I'm dressed in a plain white dress with slip on shoes, whereas Finnegan is wearing a crisp white t shirt with grey joggers. He's opted not to wear shoes, which I find odd.

'We're going to visit 12's tributes?' I ask with confusion. I certainly hope not.

'Of course not,' he replies, and I give a sigh of relief.

'So where are we going then? 12's apartment is the highest we can go.'

'Oh, no it's not.'

I'm extremely confused now. Of course it is.

The elevator doors ping and slide open, and we both step out. Finnegan leads the way, going up the stairs to our right.

'Close your eyes,' he says, and for a moment the idea that he might try to kill me now flits across my mind. But that's extremely unlikely, and illegal in the Games' rules.

So I trust him, and my eyelids close over my eyes. He takes me by hand and walks forward. I feel very tempted to open one eye, even if it's just a tiny bit.

'Trust me,' Finnegan says, and just for this hour, I can't help but do so.

I keep my eyes closed as Finnegan leads the way. I can hear a door slowly creak open, and moments later realise we must be out in the open.

'You can open your eyes now.'

'Wow,' is all I can say. There's an entire garden, full of the most beautiful flowers and hanging baskets. Some of the flowers are vivid in colour, others possess a more mild tone. It's amazing.

There's a bench placed in the middle of this garden, so we sit there.

From up here we can see the bright lights of the city, and hear the drunken laughter.

We must be up on the roof. Well, it makes sense now. But are we even allowed up here?

'Are we even allowed up here?' I ask.

'If we weren't they would've locked the doors.'

'But isn't there the risk of tributes jumping?'

Finnegan ponders this for a moment. 'I suppose not. There must be some sort of forcefield or something like that. Something stopping you from falling.'

'Seems logical enough.' I say, and Finnegan smiles at this.

'So, what did you want to talk about?' I ask, and Finnegan looks embarrassed, but he still answers.

'You. About you.'

This makes me wonder if Finnegan's planning on winning at all. It'd be a lot harder to kill someone, the more you know about them.

'Well,' I begin, somewhat dumbstruck. 'My name is Absidee Meghan Odair. I am 17 years old, born on the 15th of September. I have two siblings, an older brother, Coby, and a younger sister, Edrie. And I love the sea.' I stop there and look up at him to find him looking straight into my eyes, which I find awkward. 'What about you?'

He draws a breath and begins. 'My name is Finnegan Maximilian Goldsmith. I am also 17 years old, and my birthday is the 22nd October. I have one older sister, Tammy, who's 22. I don't love anything.'

My jaw drops. 'Not even the sea?'

'Not even the sea.'

'What about your girlfriend?' I ask casually. I'm sure he has a girlfriend back at home, but he just laughs.

'What, the non existent one?'

'Alright, alright,' I groan with embarrassment. 'How're you finding the Capitol?'

Finnegan shrugs. 'OK. If I were judging just the food though, I'd say great. They have amazing food here.'

I stifle a laugh. 'How about your team?'

'Well, my mentor, Selene, isn't all she seems. Sweet exterior, but absolutely mental really. A complete killing machine.'

'I expected as much,' I grumble in reply, but I have to say that Finnegan's description of his mentor scares me.

Is that what we'll become?  
Humans with only thing on our minds, that being survival. And survival means sacrifices.  
What those sacrifices involve, whether it be our favourite things, or even ourselves, who knows?

'My prep team are mental, absolutely brainless, heads full of fluff, but my stylist is OK I guess. What about you?' Finnegan continues, pulling me out of my train of thought.

'Well, my mentor is obviously decent,' I sigh. 'My prep team... well, I have to admit I was too involved in my own thought to listen to them. But my stylist is a creep.'

'Oh yeah,' Finnegan nods. 'I heard Coco talking to you about him. He's meant to be some kind of Capitol fashion genius, right?'

'Well that's not hard, is it?' I mutter under my breath.

'But he chose you, Absidee.'

'It's only because of Finnick. Without him I wouldn't even register on these Capitol citizens' radar.'

'That's only partly true.'

'Really?' I feel as if Finnegan's attempting to flatter me. And it's working, if he is.

'Honestly. You've intrigued them already.'

'But how? All I've done is stand on that chariot.'

'They expect you'd be more showy, I suppose.'

'Right,' I say. 'Are you saying Finnick's showy, then?'

Finnegan thinks for a few moments. 'Not quite.'

'Not quite?'

'He does try to charm the crowd, doesn't he? In fact, that's probably what helped him win his Games.'

I'm irritated, at Finnegan's words. Showy? Is that really what people think of Finnick, and expect me to be? They really have no idea, do they?

I don't say anything.

'You can't say it's not true, Absidee.'

'OK,' is all I think to say in reply.

We sit in silence for a few minutes when something floats into my thoughts. Something I never actually realised before hits me coldly.

'No one volunteered for us at the reaping,' I say quietly.

'That has to be the first time in years.'

'Does it mean they want us to die?' I ask.

'Of course not!' Finnegan says immediately, but he doesn't sound so sure himself.

'Why did no one volunteer, then?'

Finnegan pauses, trying to search for a plausible answer in his brain. 'The rumours, perhaps.'

Of course. The rumours.  
This brings fresh fear back into my system. If I was scared before, I'm terrified now. I glance around us looking for cameras which could be recording our conversation.

'Well,' I gulp. 'That makes sense.'

Finnegan laughs nervously. 'Yes. They were pretty horrific, those rumours were.'

These rumours were rumours involving the arena. Rumours that the arena was meant to be extremely awful this year.  
Some of the ideas circulating were of an arena which is packed with holograms, so you'd have no idea what is real, and what is not real. Others included a post apocalyptic city type arena, reminiscent of how North America was found before Panem was formed. And then there was that rumour which was less talked about, at least in our district, the one where the arena would be an underground maze system, the only torches being at the cornucopia.  
Of course, all these rumours involved the arenas having particularly horrible things around every corner.

What these horrible things could be, no one knew. Just the thought itself made me shudder.

'Don't worry,' Finnegan says and rubs my arm. I must've been staring into space for some time.

But what a thing to say. 'Don't worry'?  
He does realise that we're to enter the Hunger Games soon, right?

'Don't worry?' I say with an raised eyebrow.

'I take it back. Worry a lot.' Finnegan says, accompanying his words with a cheeky smile.

'Well I'm glad you can have a nice joke before the Hunger Games,' I say rather bitterly.

'Maybe I wasn't joking?'

'If you're being serious try not to say it with a smile like that, Finnegan,' I say, but end up giggling at the expression on Finnegan's face. I can tell it's the first time he's been outsmarted by a girl his age, if I do say so myself.

He ends up laughing too, and we stay like that for five minutes until we eventually calm down and seem to sober up.

'So,' he begins. 'These Games everyone in the Capitol raves about... who do you think'll win this year?'

'That Finnegan Goldsmith, I reckon,' I say lightly, my voice barely carrying over the heavy winds which cover up our words.

He cocks his head to one side. 'Really?'

'Of course.'

He leans in close to me. At first I begin to panic, what the hell is he doing?  
But then I calm, and just let the flow take me in.

He leans in so close to me that I could kill him within in a second. 'I disagree,' he whispers right into my left ear in a low voice. 'Absidee Odair is a great player in this year's Games.'

He leans back, but hovers in front of me, his eyes burning into mine. This is when I notice his eyes for the first time.  
What a beautiful colour they are. Green, but tainted with flecks of gold.

And for that moment, I have a desire to kiss him. But of course I don't. My head keeps on top of my heart and my feelings. I can't let that happen. It was only a quick impulse, though, I think.

Footsteps sound behind us and I quickly back away from Finnegan. I don't want anyone thinking anything happened, no.

'What are you two kids up to, eh?' A familiar voice infuriatingly asks. It's Finnick.

'Finnick, how many times, I'm only a year younger than you!'

It may be less than a week until I die, but it's about time Finnick realised he's not actually much older than me.

'Young'un, you need to calm,' says a drunken voice. Wait, drunken? Is this even legal, what's happening right now?

'Haymitch Abernathy?' I ask, and turn to see it is indeed him.

'Yes, dear. I was just having a loovely catch up with your cousin here,' he slings an arm around Finnick's shoulder. 'But I should probably be off anyway.'

And then he staggers off, leaving only me, Finnick and Finnegan.

'He drinks more during the Games,' Finnick says quickly, as if this explains all.

'What about his tributes?' Finnegan pipes up.

'They're hopeless, most years. If they show a spark though, Haymitch will stay sober and try to help them,' Finnick pauses. 'Until they die.'

'Haymitch isn't a cruel man. I'd hate for you to believe that. He just suffers a lot from the Games. Drinking is his escape,' Finnick continues, and I feel for this drunkard. How must it feel to mentor two young people year upon year, only to have them both die? Awful. Just awful.

Now I knew what my choice would be.


	8. Befriending The Enemy

_"Fear can make you compromise." __**— Foster the People, Houdini**_

* * *

I wake up at around the same time everyone else does the next morning. I get dressed into the set uniform for training, as we'll be having our first training day today, then head down to breakfast, where Finnegan, Selene and Finnick are already sat.

'Hello,' I groan.

'Someone's not a morning person, hm?' Selene says with a smile.

Not in the Capitol, I'm not. Back in 4, back at home, I'd eagerly rise for mine and Finnick's fishing trips.

'I suppose not,' is what I grumble in reply though.

I take my seat beside Finnick, and opposite Finnegan. The Finns. Their names are extremely similar, which is confusing. No nicknames here, then. Oh well. It's a shame, I'm quite big on nicknames.

Just listen to my thoughts. Am I honestly a bit sad that I won't be able to use a nickname without confusion occurring, a week before I'm due to die?

Honestly, I need to sort out my priorities.

'So. Strategies,' Selene says, banging her fork on the table. 'The alliance.'

'Of course,' Finnick smiles a fake smile. 'Let the Games begin here at the breakfast table.'

This earns him a glare from Selene, but he stands his ground, glaring back.

'Look, Odair, we need to plan this,' she growls.

'Just not now, okay? Absidee's barely awake.'

'Oh,' I begin. 'Feel free to plan without me.'

Finnick sighs, and I can tell exactly what he's thinking. 'Absidee's putting that plan of hers into action then, is she really that intent on dying?' I could basically hear him screaming to me telepathically.

'No, you need to be there too, Absidee. You're a part of this plan, you know,' is what he says though.

'Okay, whatever pleases you,' I grumble and everyone at the table looks at me.

'Don't be like that, Absidee,' Finnick says, so I just stare down at the table instead.

Selene continues her argument. 'Anyway, Finnick, if we don't plan for the Games now, when do we plan?'

He thinks for a few moments before shaking his head and Selene grins, triumphant.

'Exactly. So, anyway, the alliance,' she addresses me and Finnegan. 'You know that District 4 is a Career district, so you should form an alliance with 1 and 2.'

'What if we don't want to conform to the status quo?' I say quickly.

'Then expect a tough time. The rest of the Careers won't like that you've rejected them,' Selene says swiftly.

'So we'll be making an alliance with 1 and 2?' Finnegan asks.

'Well, you decide now whether you wish to,' says Selene.

'I'm in,' Finnegan says, and all eyes avert to me again.

'Absidee?' Finnick says.

Do I have much choice in the matter? I'll be able to protect Finnegan more if I'm with him, obviously. 'Yeah,' I say unwillingly. 'I'm in.'

'Well that's good,' Selene says rather enthusiastically, and Finnick rolls his eyes.

'You'll form the alliance today, preferably,' Finnick says. 'Show them you have skill, for today stick more to your specific skill, then after the alliance has been formed for the other two days of training you have go to survival skills, and maybe, if you have time, learn to handle another weapon,' he pauses to catch his breath. He's speaking quickly, but I catch every word and store it in my mind. 'Do not miss survival skills, no matter what you do, okay?'

Finnegan and I nod.

'You'll regret it if you do.'

We finish breakfast, then we're escorted down to the training centre by Coco. At least we go down in the elevator with her, and then we're alone to walk to the centre.

I can hear Finnick's advice reverberating in my head. Stick to the weapon of my choice today. Show 1 and 2 what I've got. And do not forget the survival skills. Never.

'Nervous?' Finnegan asks me.

It hasn't occurred to me until now what today actually entails. Today means meeting our fellow tributes for the first time, the people whom in less than a week could be attempting to murder us. I am definitely nervous now.

'Of course. You?'

'I'm surprised I can string two words together,' he says and I laugh.

We enter the huge room, where around 20 tributes are gathered.

'When are we due to start?' I whisper to Finnegan.

'Five minutes,' he replies and I nod.

I have time to take a look at our opponents, and at our allies. Everyone has their district number on their backs, so I can tell who's who.

Only 4 districts stick out to me.

1 and 2, of course, and then 7 and 3. The districts of Lumber and Technology.

1 and 2 looked just as you'd expect Careers to. Even the girls were toned and muscly. These must be the obsessed-with-training type. They must've volunteered.  
I wonder if these types of obsessed training people are common in 1 and 2, as it certainly seems it. Every year there's at least 1 buff killing machine in either 1 or 2.

With 7, the boy looked particularly strong, the girl, not so much. But who knew what these two could do with an axe? I was just judging on how they all looked, perhaps the girl was epic with an axe, and the boy, strong but dumb?

3, however, didn't look strong. Quite the contrary actually, they seemed to be lacking quite a lot in the muscles department. But I didn't like the way the partners exchanged sly smiles. It seemed they already had a plan. And clever people could be quite a lot more dangerous than the buff but stupid.

The other districts arrive, 12 and 10's tributes, who don't seem like much, and Atala quickly advises us, saying words similar to Finnick's, about not abandoning the survival skills.

Then we're all free to go, and as instructed, me and Finnegan head to our specific skills, him to the knives, and I to the spears.

I pick up the spear from the top of a neatly arranged pyramid, then summon up all my strength to throw a spear across partway of the room at a dummy. It lands just above where a heart would be on the dummy. But I try not to think about what the dummy represents.  
Maybe won't kill in the arena?  
A Career who never kills? Who am I kidding, sounds like a joke.

I pick up another spear and squint. I'm aiming straight for the... middle of the target this time.  
I know I just about have the power (surprisingly), but do I have the aim?  
After years of spearing the fish in the shallow waters with my cousin, I should think so.

I put all my focus into this shot, and I can feel eyes on me, no doubt the rest of the Careers, perhaps even a couple of other curious tributes from the outlying districts.

I make my move, knowing this throw matters. The spear seems to hurtle through the air in slow motion, before finally reaching it's target.

And I've done it! I look around myself feeling triumphant and take in the faces of my audience. Faces of jealousy and admiration. I can see Finnegan was watching, and he nods with surprise. I send him a smile, but quickly wipe my face clean of emotion. I shouldn't be doing that.

10 minutes later, as I aim to throw again, I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see the Careers behind me, Finnegan with them.

'We all saw your skill earlier,' the dark haired boy from 1 says. 'Impeccable.'

'You could come in handy,' the girl from his district grins at me, and I can't help but feel slightly unsafe around her. It's the look in her eyes, I think.

The girl from 2 begins to speak. 'Plus, you'll be raking in the sponsors. Finnick Odair's cousin...' She says almost dreamily and Nearly shudder. Does she have some kind of huge crush on my cousin or what? Eugh!

'So what do you say?' the boy from 2 says. He has hair a shade slightly darker than sandy blond, which you see so often in my district. His eyes are an extremely dark blue, almost black colour. He's quite good looking, so he's definitely a worthy opponent. Getting sponsors should be no tough job for him.

'Yes,' I say, and they all smile at each other. Of course they knew I'd say yes.

The training day soon draws to a close, and me and Finnegan head up to the fourth floor.


	9. 1588

_"Sometimes I wanna disappear." __**— Foster the People, Houdini.**_

* * *

'So, what do you think of our allies, Absidee?' Finnegan asks me as soon as we're safely in our district's room.

I don't hesitate to let my feelings go. 'Stuck up and arrogant. Typical Careers, hm?'

Finnegan nods. 'I suppose so. But without siding with them, they'd be against us. And that really isn't an option. Like Selene mentioned, we'd have a tough time without the Careers with us, and they'd hate being rejected. You'd be one of the first on their kill list.'

I feel he's trying to convince himself more than me.

'I know,' I say.

Selene rushes over. 'How did it go? Did you form the alliance?'

Finnegan speaks for the both of us. 'It was good. And yes, we formed the alliance.'

Selene ruffles his hair, a huge grin on her face. 'I knew you'd be able to do it,' she says.

I look around and notice the absence of Finnick.

'Where's Finnick?' I ask, and Selene shakes her head.

'Out on business, I believe he said. Or perhaps he said he was just busy,' Selene must see the annoyed look on my face because she quickly adds: 'But he'll be back before nightfall!'

'Right,' I say before stalking off to my room and leaving Finnegan and Selene alone to sort out strategies, or whatever they do.

I sit on the magnificent double bed which is placed right in the centre of the room. I just sit there twiddling my thumbs for a few minutes, and odd things pop into my head, things which shouldn't matter. But to me, for now, I'm curious as to the answers.  
I wonder exactly how old Selene actually is, how many stars there are that dot the skies at night, how many fish swim in the sea. And then I wonder how many people have died so far in the Hunger Games.

I search the draws of my room, searching frantically. I need to know the answer, and my brain is too frazzled to figure it out for itself.  
I find a device, and input the numbers.  
67 Hunger Games have occurred. 23 tributes die every year.  
67 × 23.  
1541.  
And then if you add an extra 47 from the second Quarter Quell, where there were double the amount of tributes, you get 1588.  
1588 innocent people have been murdered by the Capitol in the past 67 years.

I throw myself down on my bed and cry. I spend 20 minutes in this state, before someone enters the room. I don't look up, hoping they'll just leave again, but they don't.

'What's the matter?' a voice says, and it's not a Capitol voice, not Coco or anyone like that.

They come and sit beside me, and begin to rub my back in a calming manner. I still don't look up though.

'Come on. We're going through a very similar situation, Absidee, you know that.'

I lift my head up wearily. 'Finnegan.'

'Yes?' he says, and his green eyes bore into mine, and yet again I can pick out the golden flecks in his eyes. I like this feature of his.

'You don't want to know why I'm crying,' I say and it's partly true. I don't want him to know, it'll haze his focus for the Games. It's my wish; to have a victor from 4 this year. Or perhaps you could call it my death wish.

I can almost hear Finnegan's brain whirring as he tries to figure out what is wrong with me. He seems to come to a conclusion soon enough though, his face set like the stone which will be cut into a suitable headstone for me once I die in these Games. Once I become just another Capitol statistic.

'Are you... are you p-pregnant?' he manages to get out, and I almost burst out into laughter. Almost.

'Of course not!' I say. 'Who the heck would I get pregnant from, anyway?' How ridiculous.

'Er, I don't know, quite a few guys back home like you, I guess. Anyone?'

'Anyone?' I say with a raised eyebrow. Does he really think I'm that cheap?

'Well, thanks for that implication.'

'What?' Finnegan says, a completely bewildered look on his face.

'You just made out that I'd go with any guy,' I explain.

He shrugs. 'Oh. I never meant to. Sorry.'

'Apology accepted.' I manage a faint smile.

Finnegan's ridiculous idea of why I was upset takes my mind off why I was upset in the first place, but as soon as the laughter ends I'm pulled back into reality again. It drags me down into its deep, dark abyss.

'Can you tell me what is wrong, then?' he prompts me gently, and I want to tell him, oh I do, but I know I can't.

'No.'

'Is it something personal?'

I shake my head, but kick myself seconds later. If I'd nodded I could've gotten away with it.

'To do with the Games?'

I nod.

'Then I'm technically a part of it too,' Finnegan decides. 'I will never tell a soul.'

'OK,' I give in, feeling weak. 'I thought it'd be a good idea to figure out how many tributes have been killed by the Games.'

Finnegan shakes his head lightly and whispers, 'And that total comes to?'

'1588.'

'That many?' he asks, looking taken aback. I nod. 'Oh god.'

He pulls me into a hug, my head resting on his chest, where I can hear the steady beat of his heart. This seems to calm me as well as his embrace.

'Thank you.' I say. I don't seem to thank people enough nowadays.

'It's really no problem,' he says quietly whilst leaning out of the hug and holding the tops of my arms comfortably.

It's quiet for a minute until Finnegan breaks the silence with a suggestion.

'How about we forget the Games for an hour or so? Use up the time until Finnick gets back from business or wherever he is.'

I'll never be able to forget about the Games, but it's okay to attempt to try, right?

We both spend the next half an hour talking. About random stuff really. Attempting to answer the questions I pondered earlier.

How many stars are there in the sky?  
'Lots,' is Finnegan's reply.

How many fish are there in the sea?  
'Enough to feed an entire district and the Capitol,' is Finnegan's answer.

And how old is Selene?  
'20,' Finnegan says, and I feel this is the only certain answer I'll be getting from him this late afternoon.

We laugh, and the Games are almost out of my mind. But not quite.

Finnick arrives at the apartment later, but I try and ignore him. Does he really deem the Capitol citizens more important than me, even when I'm to die in less than a week?

I mean, come on, I'm not completely naïve. I know what he means when he says he's 'busy', especially when the Capitol's involved.  
I have a vague idea of what he spent his afternoon doing, which makes me shudder.

I don't speak for the rest of the day once we've had dinner so I just head for bed. An early night should do me good, as we have more training tomorrow.

Should be great.


	10. The Answer

_"The innocence of what you are is what I want." __**— Foster the People, Miss You.**_

* * *

Me and Finnegan have our second day of training, which goes well. We stick to the survival skills this time round, as advised, and then later we try to pick up a bit of skill on a different weapon, other than my spear and Finnegan's knives.  
During the weapons training I don't feel at peace with myself, unlike during survival skills training.  
Training to kill is very different from training to keep yourself alive. Oh so much.

As soon as we get back to our floor the preparation for the Games doesn't stop, with Selene pestering us to watch the reapings again, then the 65th Games.  
No matter how much I protest, she still insists, and I was reduced to pleading her to not make us watch it.  
But she just snaps: 'Every single one of us victors are victors for a reason, Odair!'

So I begin to argue with her, questioning over and over again, 'Why Finnick's games, why no one else's?' to which Selene answers 'Once in the Capitol tributes are forbidden to watch any Games other than their own mentors'. And besides, you can learn a bit about how the Capitol will be running these Games, learn their tactics. The Capitol will be out to kill you in the arena as well, you do realise.'

I shake my head in defeat, burying my head in my hands, wishing Finnick were here to stop her. I knew he'd never let her replay his own Games anytime to any of his tributes, let alone his own cousin.  
Finnegan wraps his arm around me as we watch.

But, thank heavens, Finnick arrives back from one of his 'trips out into the city' 10 minutes into the tape. A huge argument ensues between Finnick and Selene, so here I am now.  
Sat in my room, alone.  
Contemplating the parts of the tape we had watched.  
Selene had only showed us up to the interviews the night before the Games actually began, as she thought we'd be able to pick up useful tips, and perhaps even pick out an angle to play to the Capitol crowd for our very own interviews. I already know what I'm going to play up in order to gain sponsors. It's obvious, isn't it? Finnick Odair's charming cousin. Selene did say I am good looking enough to pull that off, so I just shrugged.

I can still hear them shouting outside the door. I feel extremely weak as I think over how I absolutely refused to watch Finnick's games. I'm already losing it, aren't I? And I'm not even in the arena yet.

I tiptoe over to the door, scared I'll be heard, even though there really is no chance of that happening.

'How could you Selene?! She's my cousin, you know that! Do you want her to see me as even more of a monster?!' Finnick yells.

It might seem a bit strange, my point blank refusal to watch Finnick's Games, me even pleading not to watch them, and Finnick's anger at Selene.  
I never watched Finnick's Games. I couldn't bring myself to. I know that the Hunger Games are required viewing across the districts, I was in the room whilst it was on, of course, but I busied myself, practicing my knots in the corner of the room, and not looking up once in fear of catching a glimpse of the screen. I relied on my family to keep me up to date with how Finnick was doing after we were allowed to leave.

'What makes you think that I even knew she hadn't seen them before?' Selene shouts back, and I can almost feel Finnick's fury through the door.

'Perhaps by the way she was pleading with you not to watch it? Honestly Selene!'

'Well,' Selene says slyly. 'Not everyone can be as perfect as you, Finnick Odair.'

'You and I both know I'm far from perfect, Selene,' is Finnick's reply.

Selene huffs and I can hear her footsteps trotting up the spiral stairs to her room.

Finnick lets out an aggravated sigh and falls back into a chair. I open my door and head to Finnegan's room. I wonder if he heard all this.

'Dee,' I hear Finnick's voice say, and I turn to him.

'I'm so sorry Selene was going to make you watch my Games, that was just...' He can't seem to find the words.

'It's not your fault,' I say quickly. 'I didn't see anything, anyway.'

Finnick stands up and opens his arms. 'Come here,' he says.

We stand there hugging for a couple of minutes, until we separate. 'If Selene ever does anything like that again, I'll murder her,' says Finnick with a faint smile. 'I'm not going to have my little cousin doing anything ridiculous.'

This makes me smile, despite the deliberate antagonistic comment from Finnick. 'I'm only a year younger than you, Finnick.'

'You're still younger than me, and don't you forget it,' he says and laughs.

I feel as though I'm back at home for a few minutes. Finnick's salty sea smell tricks my brain into believing it's home. The casual banter between us reminds us of the words we used to exchange on our little boat whilst we were out at sea.

And the worst feeling ever is when I realise we're not at home, and I probably never will be.

'As if you'll let me forget it,' I laugh gently.

I completely brush off the idea of going to see Finnegan now, I can do that after dinner.  
It's nice to be able to have a conversation with my cousin without any disruptions.

But there is at least one thing I want to know before I die.

'Where do you go?' I ask him.

'Go?' he asks, a confused expression upon his face.

'When you're here, in the Capitol. Like yesterday, when you were out.'

'I do business,' Finnick replies vaguely.

I pull out the nickname trick. 'Finn, do you mean mentor business?'

'In a way.'

I'm getting a bit annoyed now. 'Stop being so vague, Finn!'

'What do you want me to tell you?'

'The answer to my question.'

I have quite a few questions to ask Finnick, actually, but this one has been playing on my mind the most. Other questions which taint my mind are: 'Why doesn't Finnick want me to watch his Games so much? Is it for my sake or his own?' and 'Do Finnick and Selene hate each other?'

Finnick is silent for a minute before speaking. 'I can't tell you.'

'Why not?'

'You'll hate me. You'll be disgusted by me.'

What could be that bad? If he was worried about me knowing about him and his times with the Capitol citizens, he needn't worry, I already know.

'Finnick, for a moment, forget I'm family and think of me as just a close friend,' is what I say. Maybe it's just because we're related thay he doesn't want to admit.

'Are you sure you wish to know?'

'Positive.'

Finnick sighs, tilting his head from side to side slowly. 'I suppose it's about time you knew anyway. It'll explain a lot.'

Then he leads me up to the roof, where our voices should be covered by the wind away from any unwelcome ears, but not so much we wouldn't be able to hear each other.

And then he tells me everything. Accompanied by a glance over his shoulder every few sentences, checking for trespassers on this horrendous secret. But there are already so many, aren't there, I think to myself.

Finnick tells me exactly why he goes away from District 4 every few weeks.  
Exactly what goes on during those trips.  
How he's been exploited by President Snow, used to Snow's advantage for politics, or just to gain himself favours.  
And to think that all this time I thought Finnick believed he owed himself to the Capitol? How wrong I was.

Of course Finnick wouldn't see it like that.  
Inside he is just as angry as I am at the Capitol for their sadistic Games.

The Games which tear families apart.

The Games which cause chaos in many lives every year.

'I'm so sorry,' is all I can say. 'I'm so so sorry.'

'It's Snow,' Finnick growls. 'One day us districts will rise up, together. Rebel.'

'You can't say that,' I look around us quickly with paranoia. No matter Finnick's status in society, a death could be arranged, I'm sure.

It wasn't unheard of.  
Someone would speak out against the Capitol in public, either in hopes of inciting a rebellion, or just venting their anger.  
Sooner or later they'd either be dead, or a family member of theirs found dead.  
A way to silence those who dared even think of rebelling.

And these deaths were all Snow's doing, no doubt.

'It could happen, Absidee. You can't ignore that fact. Everyone has enough anger inside, now we just need someone to lead us.'

'Finnick,' I say. 'It could happen, I know. But I won't be living to see it.'

'Not this again,' Finnick says. 'Will I need your district partner to talk some sense into you?'

'No,' I say bluntly. 'I want Finnegan to live, you know that.'

'I know and respect that. But you have more than a small chance of winning, Dee. Why do you want to protect Finnegan so much anyway?' Finnick asks with his head cocked to one side.

I've lost track of the answer I was so certain of myself. But in a way I don't want to live. Living means being a mentor. Being a mentor means watching at least one of your kids die every year. Living means pain.  
It's a selfish reason really.  
But I know there are is a positive side to life, and Finnegan deserves to see that.  
Finnegan, who calmed me as I cried on my bed.  
Finnegan, who held me as we began to watch Finnick's Games, which was my own personal torture, I'm sure.  
Finnegan, whose full name is Finnegan Maximilian Goldsmith.  
Finnegan, whose birthday is the 22nd of October.  
Finnegan, who has an elder sister named Tammy.  
Finnegan, who deserves to live for all these reasons.

Sure, I have many things to live for, but do I deserve them? Not as much as Finnegan, no doubt.  
I'll strike a deal with him. You protect my family when you get home, and I'll protect you.

'Well,' I say to Finnick. 'If I get home, I'll live a sad life. But I know Finnegan won't. I hope he won't. I'd dwell on the Games, he wouldn't.'

Finnick opens his mouth to speak, but I quickly add: 'And anyway, who deserves life so much more than I do?'

The answer to this question goes unspoken, but everyone knows.


	11. Private Sessions

_"You better run, better run." __**— Foster the People, Pumped Up Kicks**_

* * *

It's our last day of training, so Coco hurries us down to the training room extra early.

When I ask why, though, she just says: 'It can't hurt to be early!' in an extremely high pitched voice. So I just sigh and grit my teeth and stick through it.

Me and Finnegan stick to survival skills yet again, before we both go to the bow & arrows' section of the training room. We also practiced on this weapon yesterday after a while on the various survival skills. Selene and Finnick said it's good to have a little skill with a weapon other than your preferred one, just in case you don't reach it at the cornucopia. Which is unlikely, but still possible, as they said earlier.

We're now sat at our lunch table awaiting our turn to show the game makers what we've got in the private sessions. District 2's boy is currently in there right now, and so it'll be my turn before I know it.

'So what will you show them?' Finnegan asks me over the table. It's just us two at our lunch table now, as the rest of the Careers have already entered their private session and left, probably successful. The Careers nearly always get high scores, and I doubt this'll be any different.

'My skill with the spear, mostly. Maybe I'll make a couple of nets as well, then use the bow and arrow,' I say. I suppose Finnegan will do something a bit similar, but I just hope for both our sakes that he decides to change his routine up a bit, seeing as he goes after me. The twin act wouldn't go down well, and the gamemakers would see it as unoriginal, fixing us both with low scores and endangering our alliance with the Careers. 'What about you?'

'I'll just show off the knife skill, then make a couple of small hooks out of the materials around the room,' he says. That'd be impressive enough, I suppose.

'Show that you can use a bow & arrow as well, briefly,' I advise him.

'Alright.'

My name rings throughout the room through the speakers; it's time for my session.

I'm marched off by guards, only turning back to give an uneasy smile to Finnegan, and he gives me a smile and a thumbs up back. This encourages me a bit, so I stand up straighter and walk confidently into the room, ready to show what I've got.

'Absidee Odair, District 4,' I say clearly, and the game makers all swivel in their chairs to look at me. Luckily we're only 4, so they won't be that bored yet. Plus, I'm a past victor's cousin, Finnick Odair, nonetheless. And then I'm a Career. So I should have no problem gaining these game makers' attention.

I look at them all lounging back in their chairs.

I despise them.

Look at them, the arrogance radiating off of them.

They control mine and 23 others' lives for the next fortnight or so, and they seem to take this lightly.

Like a game. The game makers.

Knocking over a tree to murder a tribute? No problem. Setting up a wildfire? No problem. Designing mutts who are made especially to kill? It's their idea of fun.

They're evil. They are a part of what I despise in the Capitol. Why I despise the Capitol as a whole.

I throw a few spears, each of them landing on the desired target, which doesn't surprise me with all my years of fishing. Then I start to make a net quickly, and even more than that, tie a few knots quickly with expertise. I've practiced these particular knots for the majority of my life, so I tie them with ease. Being from District 4 gives one many advantages in the Hunger Games.

I then take up a bow and arrow, and begin to shakily shoot. I'm okay, but not perfect, and the games makers can see that. I just hope they'll appreciate that I have some skill, even if it's very little, with another weapon.

They dismiss me minutes later, and I wonder how I did. I think I did quite well, actually, so I'm glad.

My knots were tied with speed and the spears thrown with accuracy.

I just hope Finnegan does well as well.

* * *

Reviews are much appreciated : )

Thank you all for reading!


	12. Unwilling To Play To Their Plans

_"She would never listen, she left it all and headed towards the light." __**— Imagine Dragons, Curse**_

* * *

Finnegan walks back into our district's apartment with a shaky, but triumphant smile. This warms me inside, he's certainly made my job of keeping him alive, a job I assigned myself, a little easier.

I can spend the rest of the day relaxing whilst we, we being me, Finnegan, Coco, Selene, Finnick, and Finnegan's stylist, mine was busy again, awaited the broadcast to the entire nation of Panem about all the tributes' training scores.

And so I do, spend the day relaxing, that is. It's the calmest I've actually felt since my name was pulled from that reaping bowl last Sunday.

I spend the afternoon lounging around, occasionally talking to Finnick, Coco or even Selene.

I don't see Finnegan all day, though, until a short while before the broadcast begins.

'Want to go to the roof?'

He seems to appear from nowhere and I jump from the slight shock.

'Wow, no need to scare me,' I sigh. 'But of course.'

Finnegan smiles and we both get the elevator to the 12th floor, then walk up the stairs to the roof.

'What is it with you and roofs?' I say and laugh.

'I used to sit on our roof a lot back at 4 and watch the sun go down on the horizon just above the sea.'

I nod. 'The sunset was lovely.'

'It was,' he looks around himself, at the tall skyscrapers that surround us, the bright lights which dazzle and colourful signs which line the buildings, most advertising the upcoming Games, encouraging citizens to take part in the Games and sponsor the tributes. I shudder.

'Why do you come up here, though? We're in the Capitol, not back home.'

He looks thoughtful for a few moments. 'That's true,' he says. 'But it's still the same sunset that they see from back home, at 4, isn't it? It's the same sun which warms my family back home, right?'

I tilt my head to the side. 'Well, yeah.'

'Exactly. It feels like as though I'm somehow, I don't know, connected to my family and friends back home by watching the sunset here. They are seeing exactly what I am.'

I take this into consideration. 'So, will you feel connected to them when you watch the training scores tonight? Because they will be.'

'No. That's different.'

'I understand what you mean a little.'

We don't speak for a while and just watch the sun dip lower and lower behind the huge, majestic buildings of the Capitol. The broadcast begins at half 7 so we still have a little time.

'Do you do this everyday?' I ask.

'Do what? Seek you out for a chat?'

'Well, no,' I grin and try not to blush, feeling stupid for blushing. 'Although you do seem to be doing that a lot since we've been here.'

'You're nice to talk to,' Finnegan says, and I can feel my cheeks heating up again, so I whip my head away, to glare instead at a potted plant beside us. 'But yes, I do come up here everyday that I can since we arrived to watch the sun.'

'Is it some routine of yours? Are you superstitious you'll get bad luck if you don't?' I still stare at the plant, afraid I'm as red as the tomatoes they eat so often here in the Capitol.

'I'm not superstitious, but I guess you could say it's routine by now. I've watched the sun go down every day now for a few years. I don't know how many.'

'That's cool,' I say. 'Why didn't you just come down to the beach instead of perching on your roof?'

'Oh, come on, everyone knew the small beach down where you always went was yours, Finnick and Annie's territory.'

'What? Really?' I ask, startled.

Finnegan laughs at my expression as I whirl around to face him. 'Of course!'

I turn back to see the sun's position, and notice it's nearly completely gone now, beneath our horizon.

'We'd better go in now, Coco'll have a fit if we miss the broadcast,' I say with a slight smile.

But as we make our way to our room I realise exactly how easy I find it to relax around Finnegan. Surely this is just a strategy of his, he's had it planned out with Selene, no doubt. Get the enemy to feel completely relaxed around yourself, then as soon as you're in the arena, STRIKE. I'm scared at how easily I've forgotten the situation I'm actually in, so I reassure myself of the deal I've made with myself.

Protect Finnegan.

For as long as possible.

Until you die.

Preferably suicide.

Preferably not using one of the Capitol's weapons.

Preferably, my own way.

I know that if I did commit suicide in the arena, the Capitol would try to cut it out. They'd view it as defiance, refusing to do things their own way.

Which is exactly what it shall be.

Exactly the way I want it to be.

* * *

District 1.

Jacob Hammersmith. The score of 11.

District 1.

Ruby Diamandis. The score of 10.

District 2.

Zamuel Loker. The score of 8.

District 2.

Thamilia Jacobs. The score of 10.

I'm about to switch off about there, Selene's making frantic notes anyway, not that I'll ever use them, nor will Finnegan. But then I remember the sly smiles exchanged between the District 3 tributes so frequently during training, and pay attention.

Both of 3 receive a mediocre score of 4, which makes me scratch my head.

What the heck have they got planned?

Are they pulling the "weak" technique?

Do they have hidden strength?

I remember what their district's trade is. Technology.

Will they be using this to their advantage?

We can only wait and see.

I can only hope at least one of them will give something away during the interviews tomorrow evening.

And now it's time for District 4.

'District 4,' Caesar Flickerman announces, and I feel a shiver run through me from my expectations. But what do I really expect? Well that's just another question to add to my list of questions I've wondered about, but will probably never obtain an answer to. You can't just look these things up in a book or something.

'Absidee Odair,' he says in what seems like the slowest voice I've ever heard. Is he drawing this out on purpose, making a meal of every syllable of my name, especially the 'Odair', or is it just me? I have no idea.

'The score of...' he hesitates for a moment, and I feel like I might scream from anticipation.

'9.'

'What?!' I say out loud.

Everyone seems extremely happy with me, although Selene seems to be plastering a fake smile onto her face. I want to tell her that she needn't worry, but I resist the temptation.

I'm so surprised with my score... a 10!

A 10!

The number 10 rolls throughout my head and I have mixed feelings, feelings of pride, among others. Emotions I can't even put a name to.

'Well done,' Finnick grins widely at me and slaps me on the back. It must seem to him that I must have some faith in myself to be able to put the effort in to get that score, instead of just standing like a stone in front of the Gamemakers. Or at least, that if I didn't have faith before, I would now. Faith that I could actually win these twisted Games.

And I have to admit, for a second after they announced my score, I felt like I could win. But then I realised I was just being selfish, and I had a promise to stick to. And if I ever did win these Games with Finnegan no longer breathing, I'd never be able to live with myself in peace. My conscience would nag and nag and nag until I finally snapped.

And then what would happen?

Caesar proceeds to announce Finnegan's score. He must've left quite a pause between mine and Finnegan's scores, as it feels like ages since my score was announced.

'Finnegan Goldsworth,' Caesar says. 'The score of... 9.'

I smile at him. That should gain us enough sponsors.

9 is a good score, and the average for a Career.

But I know that, like me, Finnegan only attended the mandatory training sessions back in 4, so a 9 is extremely good for us.

I go to sleep that night with one happy thought bounding across my mind.

Finnegan can win this.

He can win this.

Take care of my family.

Everyone will be okay.

Everyone will be just fine.


	13. Nothing Left To Say

_"Take me on a whim. It's not the sun that provides us. It's not the moon that divides us." __**— Imagine Dragons, Look How Far We've Come**_

* * *

In the morning I'm awoken hastily by Coco as she comes rushing in, and I know that they must be wanting to start earlier with our preparations for mine and Finnegan's upcoming interviews.

I have a short breakfast – much to my displeasure – after having changed into the simple outfit which had been placed on my bed before I awoke this morning.

Then it's time to start the day. Coco quickly tells me and Finnegan what we'll be doing during the day and I nod along, although I'm not really listening, still feeling a bit groggy.

I just go with the flow as I'm directed to Finnick and Finnegan's lead into a room with Coco.

We must be coming up with our individual angles now.

Selene did briefly mention this at the dinner table earlier in our stay, but I'd forgotten about it until now.

We're lead into separate rooms, so it's just me and Finnick in our room.

He seems deep in thought for a few moments, conjuring up the correct words to say, as it's quite obvious what my angle shall be.

'So,' Finnick says slowly. 'We have to come up with an angle for you, for these interviews.'

I nod.

This is a big deal. This is how you get the majority of your sponsors.

Make or break.

One small mistake, and your angle for the Games will be ruined.

It could be the difference between life and death.

In fact, it is.

'So what's my angle?' I ask. 'Am I playing up the fact that I'm your cousin or?'

I strongly suspect that I will be.

'Well, yes.' My suspicions are confirmed!

'I know what you're thinking, Absidee. That this part of the Games is easy. But it's not.' Finnick shakes his head.

'Of course not.'

'How will you play up this, I guess you could call it, advantage?' he questions aloud.

I sit silent.

Capitol Finnick is so different from Finnick from home.

During the Games he seems completely focused on just that. Trying to keep his tribute alive.

And then at the events he's so different.

A flirty and promiscuous version of the Finnick I've known and loved like a brother, not just a cousin, for years. I don't like it, but what can I do? Nothing. It's not Finnick's fault, of course.

He does what he has to do, otherwise Snow'd pick off his family members, possibly including me, one by one. I don't blame Finnick at all for his Capitol persona.

It's such a strange time to even ponder such a thing as this, but it's the first time I've really realised exactly how different the Capitol's Finnick is to Home's.

'Ah, I know,' Finnick says suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. 'Be charming. Be exactly as the Capitol would expect a cousin of mine to be.'

It almost seems to pain him to say these words though, which I find slightly strange.

'Okay,' I say. 'Why do you sound like that, Finnick?'

'Like what?'

'You know what I mean.'

'I really don't,' Finnick stares down at the ground, which confirms that he's lying to me.

'You sound troubled. Pained by your own words. Why's that?'

'If you win these Games...' he doesn't finish his sentence.

Of course. How could I be so stupid?

By acting exactly as the Capitol would expect a cousin of Finnick Odair to act, even if just for these interviews, it would pretty much guarantee me a life of lending myself out to the buyers, if I won these Games, that is. I'd be used by Snow, presumably mostly to gain favour in politics. Just the thought made me shudder.

Oh, poor Finnick.

He is so strong.

I don't think I'd be able to be so if I won.

But perhaps you're not given the choice.

Grit your teeth and give the Capitol citizens who buy you what they want, or you'll pay.

You and your family will pay.

If I had a high chance of being lent out before I take on this angle for the Games, it's pretty much set in stone now.

I'm not about to complain though. It's just another reason why I should protect Finnegan throughout the Games, and help him to win.

It sounds so selfish, but I guess that's what I am.

Absidee Odair, who'd rather succumb to death's tempting tendrils, than face reality's harsh facts.

I'm not a hero who'd rather let her district partner, who is a much better person than she is, might I add, live, just because he deserves life so much more. Deserves to live a sweet life.

No, it's not really like that at all.

It's because I don't want to be prostituted.

I don't want to put my family in danger even more than they already are.

I don't want to have to face harsh, harsh reality.

How completely and utterly selfish.

So I finish Finnick's sentence for him. 'If I win these Games I'll be, borrowed, lacking 'a better way to word it, by Capitol citizens for the majority of my life.'

'Yes,' Finnick breathes. 'Just like I am.'

He runs both his hands through his hair, looking as though he might chuck something in a minute just to calm himself down. But he doesn't, deciding instead to take deep breaths and count wordlessly to ten.

I watch him mouth the numbers with his eyes closed.

'I need to pull myself together,' Finnick jokes shakily and I smile, not wanting to get too close. This is the Capitol's Finnick, not the one I know. It's almost as if he clicks into a different mindset as soon as he enters the Capitol upon its train.

He almost seems to switch off a little.

I don't blame him, though. This place to him harbours bad memories. All his old tributes he mentored who are now dead.

His involuntary prostitution.

'Take some time out,' I advise. 'Chuck some stuff around.' I gesture to the glass vases which line the marble fireplace.

'I probably shouldn't.'

I shrug. 'Perhaps not.'

He still grabs one from its perch and smashes it to the ground within seconds, though, its glass spreading over a small space.

'We should probably move to the corner. Don't want my tribute injured before they enter the arena, eh?'

'I suppose not. You feeling better now?'

He nods. 'Yes.'

'So, my angle.'

Finnick sighs. 'Your angle.'

'I'll play the charming cousin of Finnick Odair. Smiley, and willing to please.'

Finnick glares at the ground again. 'Yes.'

'Good. I'm glad that's sorted.'

Next I have time with Coco, and this is also preparation for my interview.

4 hours filled with learning how to walk in heels properly and improving my posture.

What a joy.

I learn a lot within these 4 hours, and actually feel as if I've, shock horror, improved, by the time we've finished.

I spend the rest of the day relaxing after I'm done, still lying in the simple floor lengthdress which Coco made me change into for practising in the heels.

Finnegan doesn't come to talk to me, so I feel a bit lonely for a while.

Finnick's out... elsewhere. A shiver runs down my spine and I feel extreme sympathy for my cousin.

I can't feel empathy as I can't quite imagine what it'd be like to be made to be, er, 'intimate', with someone who belongs to a society you despise. He has absolutely no choice in the matter, not unless he wants someone in his close family, or even friends to be convienently killed.

Images flash through my head, almost on a quick slideshow.

Belva, dead. Antony, dead.

Uncle Conrad, dead.

Aunty Bea, dead.

Another shiver tickles through me.

They are to Finnick what Coby, Edrie and Mum and Dad are to me.

I'm tired of being left to my own thought soon enough, feeling myself get depressed, so I decide to look for Finnegan.

I know exactly where to go; it's late in the afternoon, and the sun's slowly setting above our sky.

I find him up on the roof, sat on the ledge of the building.

'Aren't you scared of falling?' I say out loud.

'No,' Finnegan replies without turning to look at me. 'The forcefield prevents that.'

Oh yes. The forcefield. I remember us discussing that on our first night up here together, after the tributes' parade.

'Mind if I join you?'

'Of course not.'

I sit alongside him and look out onto the Capitol. The bright lights begin to hurt my eyes so I look at the sky itself instead.

Tonight it's made up of pinky tones in some areas, the perfect sunset orange in others, and then some of the other areas of sky are still a pure azure blue, the kind of sky you'd expect on a beautiful summer's day.

I feel a droplet slide down my cheek and realise I'm actually crying a bit.

_Your family could be looking at this very same sky at this very moment, you know,_ the voice in my head reminds me._ Edrie, Coby, your parents. Even your cousins and your aunt and uncle. They will be thinking of you._

It's a comforting voice, but it pulls at my insides. I feel so homesick all of a sudden, but I try to keep a steady head, reminding myself that I'll most likely never reach home again.

'Are you alright?' Finnegan asks, a curious but worried look upon his face.

'Yes,' I say with speed and attempt to wipe my face clean of all emotion. 'I'm fine.'

'So,' Finnegan begins another sentence. 'You enjoy my company?'

I sniff and try not to laugh, holding back a wide smile. 'What makes you think that?'

'Well, you come up here to watch the sun set with me.'

I tilt my head to the side. 'Yes. It is nice to have company, I suppose. It's dangerous for me to leave myself to my own thoughts. I'd probably end up punching a wall or something ridiculous,' I shrug. 'But yes, you are a decent enough person, I guess.'

'Same goes for you.'

I smile down at the ground below. Down at the pavements, where I can just about make out a big party of about 15 or so Capitol citizens making their way about the streets. Maybe Finnick is among them.

'What would you do if you won?' Finnegan questions out of the blue.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, what would you do with yourself? Lose yourself to an addiction of some sort, or try to live normally. As you did before you were reaped into this life. Or perhaps even live as Finnick does.'

'What do you mean?' I ask again. I suspect this is another subtle dig at Finnick, like what Finnegan said at the beginning of our time here.

'I mean, lose yourself amongst the Capitol culture. Almost become one of them.'

'He's not like that–'

'It seems like he goes with them to try to forget the life he leads.' Finnegan speaks the words 'goes with them' with utmost disgust.

'It's not like that, okay?' I growl.

'Okay, okay,' Finnegan holds his arms out. 'Calm down.'

He puts on this infuriating little smile for more than a few seconds, so I snap; 'Why are you doing that?!'

'Doing what?' he responds, still holding up that smile.

'That smile!' I say loudly as if it's obvious, which it is to me. 'It's so annoying!'

'It's just sweet,' he says. 'How protective you are of Finnick. I mean, I know he's your cousin–'

'He's like a brother to me,' I interrupt. 'I don't take kindly to people insulting him, or anyone I'm close to, for that matter. No matter who they are. You have no idea whatsoever what he's done for me.'

'I didn't mean to insult him, Absidee. I'm sorry.'

He smiles a real smile at me this time.

'So if I have no idea what he's done for you, am I allowed to know?'

'Well,' I hold my breath. This seems the right time. 'This seems the right time, I think.' I repeat my thoughts.

Finnegan is quiet, and I realise he's awaiting my story and listening intently.

'A year after Finn won his Games, my friend was entered into the Games. One of my closest friends, Aerowyn Harper, or as I used to call her, Wynny. I was only 14 at the time. And Wynny was one of the few people who actually got me, you know?'

Finnegan nods and I feel my eyes tearing up. I feel so weak lately, my emotions just aren't right. They're all over the place.

'So Wynny entered the arena. And of course, it was horrific. She was in the Career pack for a short time, but left as she found them distrustful. She kept herself to herself after that, but soon enough,' I feel another tear slide sneakily down my cheek. It's painful to even think about Wynny's Games, let alone recount them. That's why I liked to ignore the thought of her Games. And just preserve her memory alone. Happy memories.

'They found her,' I choke out. 'They cut her up, and they murdered her.' I'm in hysterics by now, but luckily I'm not too loud, more silent hysterics.

Finnegan pulls me into a hug, and I don't pull away. Horrifyingly I've established quite a connection to this fellow tribute of mine.

'But it's okay,' I say in a dream-like voice. 'I see her everyday. I see her in the beauty of life,' I know I must be sounding insane, but Finnegan doesn't seem to care. So I continue. 'I see her in the butterflies quite a lot. And in the dragonflies.' I add.

'May she live on through your imagination,' Finnegan whispers in my ear.

I pull back and look deep into his eyes. I know when I say my next sentence that I'll be able to identify if he's lying or not.

'Do I sound crazy to you?'

'No,' he replies softly, and I know he's speaking the absolute truth.

At least, the truth as it seems to him.

I disagree.

I believe I'm the only tribute to become unhinged in the space between the Reaping and when the Games begin.

'Are you sure?' I say slowly as he leans in towards me.

'Positive,' is the last thing he says before our lips meet.

* * *

Well... I hope that wasn't that predictable. Reviews appreciated, thanks for sticking with me and reading!


	14. Hazardous

_"Lines ever more unclear. Not sure I'm even here,' __**— Keane, Crystal Ball**_

* * *

The next day is a chaotic one.

My stylist, whom I haven't seen in a couple of days, has appeared again – not that I'm that thrilled about it – and spends a whole day fussing over me alongside my prep team.

The interviews are tonight, so everyone, at least on our district's floor is freaking out.

Finnick comes to talk to me twice, both times are about the upcoming interviews. He tells me my exact angle to aim for yet again, and I nod along. I know exactly what I'll be doing, and I hope it'll just come naturally.

Being prepared all day gives me time to think, though, which is both a downside and an upside.

Last night.

Never happened

It was just a mere weakness on at least my part. I can't let feelings get in the way. It's not myself I'm worried about getting hurt, it's Finnegan.

I am secretly protecting him anyway, after all, aren't I?

My mind reverts back to home and the sea.

Mostly the sea.

I remember stories from the sea.

There was this one time that me and Finnick were out fishing and our little boat capsized.

Luckily we weren't that far out, but still.

We swum back to shore, Finnick managing to turn the boat back onto its correct side and drag it back to shallower waters slowly.

But little did he know that during the time he'd been pulling our boat towards me, I'd been collecting seaweed.

So when Finnick finally reached me, I gave him a seaweed hat.

He didn't find this extremely funny, so he got some seaweed himself and plonked it on my head.

I, however, have a sense of humour, so I spent the next 20 minutes doing a catwalk like the ones they do in the Capitol, using seaweed in a variety of ways.

Finnick eventually found the funny side of this, and spent about 10 or so minutes of the 20 laughing in the sand on the beach.

Of course, after safely securing our boat to the small pier nearest where we were sat.

Perhaps when I die I can spend my time thinking of these happy memories.

I'd like that.

* * *

Hours and hours and hours pass slowly, and I'm about ready to fall asleep when I'm told that it is FINALLY time to head to the interview!

I'm nervous, of course, and Finnick gives me a talking through again and reassures me that I can do this.

I thank him for his reassurances and try to reassure him by saying that I'll try my best.

To which he replies; 'Remember, don't just try your best, be your best. I know you can do it.'

That's the kind of thing a Finnick in the mentor state of mind would say, not a Finnick who spends 10 minutes laughing at my experiments with seaweed.

And anyway, how can I be my best if it's just a fake persona I portray myself to be just to gain sponsors here in the Capitol?

I'm at my best when I'm near the sea.

I crave it.

The dress I'm wearing for my interview is a floor length creation, which means my practice with Coco should be put to some good use.

The dress highlights the slight curves I never really realised I had, and manages to suit the angle I'm going for perfectly.

It's a bluey green kind of colour, which matches my eyes.

My hair is braided around my head in a nice style, and I pat it as I look into the mirror.

I look decent.

My prep team spend minutes gushing over how I look, and I thank my stylist with a small smile.

I walk slowly to the place where all the other tributes are gathered, ready and awaiting their turn.

I walk, my steps vibrating around me. Slowly.

Alone.

We're all lead onto the stage, where 24 seats are placed in an arc on the curved staging.

I await my interview in complete silence, trying to look a bit confident, but my hands are shaking more than the fish the fisherman back home catch in their huge nets.

I fiddle with my hands and try to relax a little.

_Pretend you're just talking to Finnick,_ I tell myself._ Perhaps that'll help._

District 1 have their turns, then District 2, and soon enough it's District 3's tributes' go.

We all have one objective this evening:

Charm the Capitol.

That's the main thing we all set out to do.

District 4... it's me. It's my time.

My time to gain more sponsors and put more toward my effort of saving Finnegan's life.

'The cousin of one of our favourite victors... It's Absidee Odair!' Caesar booms and I step out onto the stage.

I'm overwhelmed by the cheering and clapping. It all sounds like a complete and utter din.

'So, Absidee, how do you feel about your chance in these upcoming Games?'

Confident. Charming.

Be exactly as they'd expect a cousin of Finnick Odair to be.

Do not surprise them.

'Well,' I smile at the audience, which pains me really on the inside, but I hide it. I know I must choose my words carefully. 'I'm confident.'

Caesar smiles at me. I can't help but like him, which really surprises me.

'Two Odair in 5 years? My my, aren't all of us here in the Capitol lucky, eh?' Caesar rouses the crowd, who all cheer and whoop.

I look across the crowd, and can't help but wonder who amongst this crowd has paid to be with Finnick. It takes all my strength not to show some discomfort of some sort on my face.

'I must say, Absidee,' Caesar speaks to me again. 'You look extremely lovely tonight.'

I throw on a grin, and I can almost feel Finnick telepathically nudging me before I say: 'Ah, thank you, Caesar. I must thank my stylist,' i wave out towards my stylist. Pretending to not despise him. 'The same goes for you, and the entire audience here right now.'

The entire crowd shriek and whoop again, and I feel sick to my stomach. Not only with the Capitol, but with myself as well.

Caesar lets out a hearty laugh and I make myself giggle along. 'I'm glad you think so, Absidee!'

I smile graciously.

'So, do you have any family back home? Brothers or sisters?' Caesar asks, and I know he's trying to help me along. Not that I need it, the crowd is hanging onto my every word.

'Yes,' I hear myself say clearly, although I feel like I might break down into tears in a minute. It's taking all my strength to keep this up. 'An older brother, Coby and a little sister, Edrie,' I look straight into the camera. It's time for my heartfelt moment. 'I'd do anything for them.'

And it's true, I would.

By the way the Capitol people in the audience are 'awwing', I know I've reeled them in further.

'So will you try to win these Games for both your sister and your brother then?'

'I will,' I smile widely.

'Will you try to win these Games for your cousin, and mentor?'

'Yes, I definitely will!' I boom, and the crowd's gone crazy by now.

The buzzer rings, much to my relief, it feels as if I might collapse in a minute.

'Thank you so much, Absidee,' Caesar says quickly and quietly to me, and I smile a real smile in reply to him.

'Panem, Absidee Odair of District 4!' he shouts and holds my arm in the air. I smile and wave accordingly, acting as though I'm happy to be here in the Capitol.

It'd be odd to the Capitol if they thought I wasn't happy to be here.

They presume that just because I'm from a Career district, and the cousin of a victor, it means I want to actually be in these Games.

Well, they couldn't be more wrong.

Finnegan's interview goes well as well.

He's aiming for a similar angle to mine as well, charming, but clever as well. He mentions how he helped make some of the nets back home, which makes me yearn for home again.

How how I miss it. So much.

After what seems like years passes, it's time to head up to our separate district floors again.

I sit in the main room, alone, hugging a cushion and biting the inside of my cheek over and over again.

Tomorrow, we enter the arena. Tomorrow is when the nightmares begin.

When we enter the place where horrors are sculptured.

I ponder what the arena will be like.

Will it be as bad as the rumours said?

I can only hope not.

Finnegan must be up on the roof watching the sun set again, as he has yet to come back to our floor.

I don't join him this time, though.

I need to be alone.

No distractions from my own thoughts.

Finnick's out again, and I'm kind of glad.

I won't be able to have a real conversation with him anyway, as he's the 'mentor Finnick', not home's Finnick.

And then I can predict what kind of state he'll be in. An emotional one.

But when you're emotional you do unpredictable things.

I'm not the only one who's changed since we reached the Capitol.

Ever since I was reaped I've been more touchy and irritable.

So I suppose it's kind of good that me and Finnick both have home versions of ourselves, and Capitol versions of ourselves.

So that how we are at home, won't be tainted by how we are in the Capitol.

Not that I need worry about that.

I most likely will not be getting out of the arena again once I'm trapped in it.

Caught like a fish in our fishing nets.

So vulnerable and defenceless.

I go to my room early and lie on my bed, face down.

I scream into my pillow and bang my fists against the mattress I lie on. It doesn't help me get rid of my anger, if anything, it only gives me a sore throat and slightly sore hands.

I can hear Finnegan when he enters our apartment. It seems he's trying to vent his anger the same way as I am.

But a lot more dramatically than I.

He throws things around for about 10 minutes or so, before quieting down.

I walk out of my room to see the main room in a bad state. It could be cleaned quickly, but you'd have to be careful of the sharp shattered glass which is scattered around the place.

Jeez, he must've thrown about 3 vases!

I can't help but smile, despite the circumstances of my impending doom.

I doubt that many Careers have vase smashing rages the night before the Games.

'You alright?' I say as I see Finnegan sprawled on an armchair.

'I guess,' is his reply. 'My hands are a bit bloody, though.' He holds up one hand, which is smudged with blood.

'You cut yourself?'

'Yes,' he says. A few moments pause. 'I must seem so weird to you, having a rage the night before the Games start.'

'No,' I reply. 'We all let our anger go in different ways. I get more upset about it, whereas you obviously throw stuff.'

I move over closer to him, and gasp at the sight of his hands. The one he showed me briefly wasn't half as bad as his other hand.

'Oh my god, Finnegan,' I say. 'Let me try and find you some bandages or something.'

I scout around our place to try and find a first aid box, and, after 5 minutes, grab one from Selene's ensuite.

We're the only one's here, I realise. Selene must be out trying to gain Finnegan more sponsors. And Finnick... either doing that for me, or out on a job.

It almost feels as though last night is forgotten between me and Finnegan, and I feel somewhat happy with that.

I fix up his hand, albeit a bit clumsily, and we sit in the main room on separate armchairs, staring into space.

'Come over here,' he says, and I want to, but feel as if I can't. But I do anyway, guilt nestling itself in the back of my mind. But I forget why we're even here, and just live in the moment for now.

I'm enveloped in his arms and lying against him, hearing the steady beat of his heart.

Something's stirring deep inside.

I can't even help it, I'm drawn to Finnegan. It's awful really.

'Nice dress,' he whispers.

'I'll make sure to tell my stylist you said that,' I say back softly. 'You don't look so bad yourself.'

I'm not lying; he looks great, I admit unhappily.

'Thanks,' he says.

I close my eyes. I could easily fall asleep like this, and I do.

We both fall asleep like this.

And Finnick and Selene must've obviously left us alone, as I wake up still in Finnegan's arms the next morning.

The morning of the day I enter the place of horrors and nightmares.


	15. A Promise To Keep

_"Can nobody hear me? I've got a lot that's on my mind," __** — Imagine Dragons, Hear Me.**_

* * *

'What are you doing, Dee?' Finnick says angrily, but an expression of concern on his face.

I narrow my eyes. 'What do you mean?'

Finnick's pulled me into one of the spare rooms to discuss what I've been 'doing' lately with me. He doesn't look very happy, but can I blame him? Today's the day I enter the arena.

'You know what I mean. Falling asleep in one of your opponent's arms? What in the name of Panem were you thinking!'

'It's not a big deal, Finn–'

'It is. I can't have you two being like this, when he dies you'll be horrified,' Finnick shakes his head.

'What makes you think he's going to die, Finnick?' I say sturdily.

'You must win these Games,' Finnick tells me, tears springing up in his eyes. I've only ever seen him cry two times before. One of them being the time when he came home after his Games and ran to hug me. 'You must.'

'Finnick,' I plead with him. 'I've made up my mind, you know that. Finnegan is getting out of this hellhole alive. Broken, maybe, but still alive. That's good enough for me.'

'Please, Absidee.'

'No,' I say. 'Finnegan deserves to live. I don't.'

It's my excuse. Of course there are more reasons than just that.

I'll never tell Finnick, though.

I wouldn't want to die leaving him to believe me to be a coward.

Although, that is the truth.

Finnick breathes deep breaths and looks as though he could be mentally counting to ten. It's a good technique. Perhaps I could try it in the arena as I die a slow and painful death.

'If you're going to be like that,' he says slowly, and projects an image of calm. Although he's probably feeling the opposite. I'm intent on dying, how weird for a tribute, and one from a Career district nonetheless. 'Here's your token.'

He hands me a bracelet.

A small, hand woven bracelet which symbolises my district, my home.

And how does it do so?

With the small image of a dolphin

I sigh and feel extremely happy for a moment, my mood lightened by this little bracelet.

It's nice to be able to keep a bit of home with me as I head to the place which has the power to dehumanise people.

Maybe this bracelet could be the one thing that'll keep me sane? Who knows.

'Thank you so much,' I breathe.

'It's fine,' Finnick says, and I can tell his voice is cracking. 'Absolutely fine, no trouble at all.'

He pulls me into a hug. 'I made it myself.'

He parts from me and looks into my eyes. I can tell he's gone into mentor mode again, by the look in his eyes, but I don't care this time.

'Stick with the rest of your Career group for as long as possible. Part ways as soon as you reach the bottom 8. And if you're so stubborn, stick with your friend too. Don't get too attached though,' he warns me. 'Something could happen to him.'

We begin to walk up to the roof where I'll be collected from and taken to the Launch room underneath the arena, where my stylist will be.

I'm already dressed in a simple outfit, not much work will be done by my stylist today.

My hair is wrapped around my head in an intricate braid, and I like it. It actually looks nice for once, I think.

We reach the roof but Finnick grabs my arm as I begin to walk away.

'What?' I ask.

'You have to promise me,' he begins. 'You have to swear, that if Finnegan dies, you will try to win. OK?'

'I promise,' I say slowly. 'I swear.'

And I mean it.


	16. The Games Begin

_"It's time to begin, isn't it?" __**— Imagine Dragons, It's Time.**_

* * *

I'm in one of the rooms under the arena now with my stylist (sadly). I don't really want to be spending, potentially, some of the last moments of my life with a Capitol citizen, but what can I do?

'Darling, you look amazing,' he says in that absurd Capitol accent. 'Try to stay looking gorgeous, alright?'

I groan inwardly. Seriously?

'Of course.'

We're alerted that I have to get in my tube now, which at first I hesitate to do, but realise that standing here with this weirdo will just induce even more nerves. He's bound to say something that'll make me feel sick, or worse.

I stride towards the tube, trying to look confident, but inside I'm shaking really.

_The acting doesn't end here, Absidee. It continues right up until you die._

'Remember your angle! Work it!' my stylist says encouragingly, and I hold back the temptation to spit something like 'This isn't a Capitol bloody catwalk, moron,' back at him.

Instead, I just make my way into the tube and face away from the muppet that is my stylist.

Thank god I'm not planning on winning, if I did then the Victory Tour would be a joy.

I begin to rise up.

This is it.

Will the arena be hell?

My worst nightmare?

Who knows.

Perhaps.

Most likely.

Definitely, I think as I come to a quick conclusion.

I rise up.

Up.

Up.

Then I stop.

The light blinds me.

Well, we're definitely not underground... yet.

We're in a green forest land, it all looks completely lush.

The horror rumours? Well it looks as though they were all false.

I look around myself. The Cornucopia is right ahead, and as usual, the best items further in.

With my alliance with the other Careers I should be able to get some good items, due to no risk of them killing me. But there are the other tributes.

The sly looking tributes from 3, an act?

Then there was the boy from 7, he looked pretty buff. I'd keep an eye out for them.

My eyes scouted for Finnegan, and I see him. Beside the girl tributes from 6 and 7.

I can see everyone, the tributes from 3 still have that unsettling look in their eyes, the tributes from 1 and 2, my allies, look determined as ever. Then 7's boy looks pretty p-ed.

Pretty murderous, too.

A shiver rushes down my spine as the boy from 7's head spins my way, and my eyes quickly avert to look ahead of myself.

10 seconds have passed since I arrived up here.

10.

What can I grab?

9.

What if the Careers turn against me?

8.

I wonder who could kill me.

7.

Whoever it is, I hope they make it a quick death, for my family's sake.

6.

Not likely.

5.

I'd give anything in the world to see them again though.

4.

Too late for that.

3.

I wonder how Finnegan feels.

2.

Oh god.

1.

The girl tribute from 12 steps off a second too early and gets blown to pieces.

I feel like throwing up.

My vision goes blurry.

Blood, bits of flesh everywhere.

It's disoriented me.

Perhaps an act of defiance?

Oh god.

Oh god.

Everyone's seen that.

The siren sounds out.

The Games have begun.

I'm still in shock.

My brain tells my legs to move, but they disobey.

They stay still.

A few seconds later (or is it hours?) they decide to move, and I run to the Cornucopia, taking great care to stay as far as possible away from the tribute girl from 12's scattered remains.

Some of the others among us aren't displaced by her death at all, legging it towards the Cornucopia with a certain confidence in their strides.

The boy from 2 takes more time, I can see the complete and utter shock in his face.

The tributes from 1 and the girl from 2 are already hacking away at people with the weapons they've gained, and my eyes dart everywhere looking for Finnegan.

Is he safe, is he okay?

Yes, he's fine. He's running towards the Cornucopia to get supplies needed for survival, not weapons, which I slightly appreciate.

He's not one to rush to kill.

I'm still a bit wobbly as I grab a backpack and sling it over my shoulder, I know that if I see any killing up close I'll most likely vomit.

My eyes scan around me, trying to register more details about the arena.

I see a few large grates which could lead to elsewhere dotted around us, a good place to hide out perhaps.

Many head into the forest though, not the grates, as they seem extremely unknown.

The majority of the tributes have got out of the bloodbath alive, it seems, which is rather strange.

I grab more supplies and await the boom of the cannons to confirm my suspicions.

They begin. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Only 5 tributes dead? District 1 must be outraged. And so they are.

'What the heck?!' the girl from 1 shouts.

My mind tries to conjure up her name, I'm sure I learnt it in training...

Ruby.

Oh, I remember. I didn't learn it in training, but from when the scores were announced.

I can remember the others' names now.

The boy from 1; Jacob. The girl from 2; Thamilia and the boy from 2; Zamuel.

I stumble over to Finnegan, who is quite a way away from me, and I feel extremely peculiar.

_Minutes ago, that girl from 12 was still inside herself._

It doesn't make much sense, really. She was still alive and breathing. She was inside her skin.

Not scattered on the ground of an arena.

Nausea consumes me and I nearly chuck up there and then, but I don't. That'll just make me seem weak to the sponsors and people watching. And to my allies.

I fiddle with the bracelet on my right arm, my token from my district, to calm myself. And thank god, it works.

I walk over to Finnegan, feeling better than before, but still not daring to look at the girl from 12's remains.

'Hey,' I say, not knowing quite what to say. I'm at a loss for words. 'Are you okay?'

'What a question to ask,' Finnegan smiles sadly at me. 'Come on, let's go.'

He puts his hand on my back and guides me toward the other Careers, who are discussing killing techniques, I think.

Well, at least 1 and Thamilia are. Zamuel is sat on a nearby rock, staring down at the ground.

Trying to get a grip on what just happened! I think.

He hasn't killed yet, I don't think. So Thamilia, Jacob and Ruby must've killed at least one each.

Tonight I'll see which districts the fallen are from. I wonder if 3 are still alive. I doubt 7 is dead, highly.

'Come on,' Thamilia says and gestures toward the grate. 'Let's see what's down there.'

We all follow her, not daring to do otherwise.

She stares into the grate. 'What's in there?' her district partner, Zamuel, asks.

'A short drop, then it seems to be tunnels,' she says.

'An underground system,' Ruby says with a glint in her eye. I feel extremely uneasy around her. 'How interesting.'

I turn to face the trees again, and I swear to god, I saw something glaring back at us. But a split second later it's gone. I try to forget about it, but it's etched in my mind.

We all jump into the hole, and begin our journey deeper into the tunnels, not forgetting to leave some kind of trace of our trail behind us.

Jacob had grabbed torches from the Cornucopia, so we had no trouble seeing, despite the lack of light underground.

We all journeyed back to the entrance of the system, a wide space with a small window of light from the grate, and also near to the Cornucopia.

It was a good spot.

Almost too good.

I can clearly hear the petrified scream of one of the other tributes as they die.

'No, Sandy, stop! Please don't hurt me!' They cry.

Sandy? Do they know this person? Is it another one of the tributes? I don't know.

It seems a bit too early to end an alliance, only half an hour into the Games?

How strange.

Their voice is stuck in my head on repeat, someone's last words.

I can't help but wonder if their death had anything to do with the figure I saw in the woods.

I have no idea. And I don't really want to know.


	17. What's happened' 'This happened'

_"They never look to see me fly, so I never have to lie,"__** — Imagine Dragons, Tiptoe.**_

* * *

_FINNEGAN_.

I'm sat watching over her.

She demanded at first to watch over me, but she eventually drifted off. I woke up soon after, and Zamuel offered me the watching shift, which I gladly accepted.

Time to think, right? I was happy to have it.

I think Absidee was really affected by that first death, before the Games had even really started. Properly started, I mean, officially, as in my opinion they started the second we were both reaped back in 4.

That girl from 12.

One second she was there, the next... gone.

I wonder how Haymitch will be holding up back in the Capitol.

I wonder how Absidee is really holding up.

Her angle is to act all confident, just as they'd expect, but really I think that, already, these Games have shaken her up.

That added aspect of her own cousin entering and winning these very Games a few years ago, perhaps?

Or is there more to it than that? Possibly.

I can ask her sometime, maybe.

Our campout is a wide space carved out in the rock. The grate is just above us, but no light seeps in during the night, obviously.

All of the underground system is cut out of the rock, and all the tunnels connect up to each other, in some way or another, I should think.

We could explore more in the morning.

But there's another thing I'm extremely curious about. The scream I heard earlier before we all fell asleep.

Screaming at someone called 'Sandy'?

Pleading not to be killed, I suppose.

Perhaps a cold hearted tribute murdering their district partner, or an alliance gone wrong incredibly early.

But my ideas are just theories, I want to know the real reason.

I hold back the urge just to get up and explore now; that'd be too dangerous, plus, someone could try and attack the sleeping Careers whilst I left, and even if my allies did manage to kill their attacker, it's likelihood that I'd be killed for ditching my post in the middle of the night.

Besides, the dark holds many secrets, the majority of them bad, especially in a place like this.

I lean back against the wall in a slouched position.

Earlier Thamilia handed me a few weapons: knives.

Small knives which I could hurl across a room with the flick of a wrist.

I couldn't tell exactly what type of blade they had in this light, I'd be able to inspect more in the morning.

I play with one of them in my belt, feeling a bit uneasy.

Will I kill someone with this very knife sometime during these Games? It's likely, much to my dismay.

I try to take my mind off the probability of myself killing someone, who is still alive and breathing in this very arena, and think about food.

We're positioned near the Cornucopia, and we have enough supplies down here with us anyway, but what about if we run out of food (unlikely, I know, but still). Or if something happened to the food and it was all blown up or washed away or something ridiculous? What would we do then?

Well, luckily, I can weave nets.

My family's way of making money back in 4 was by making nets and selling them to the local fisherman, selling them at the market, or just selling them to the Capitol through the Capitol official who visited every month to check up on our district.

We'd sell them to him, then he'd sell them back in the Capitol. It was a nice little business.

Why would the Capitol need fishing nets, though, I can basically hear you ask.

Ah, well, it's not that they [ITALICS]need[/] them, it's for nothing like practical use or anything remotely useful. It's for decor.

Yes, they decorate their homes with fishing nets, some of them do.

I've heard a rumour that mostly Finnick Odair's loves do this, to show that they've been with him.

How cringy.

I look down at Absidee, sleeping as if she hasn't a care in the world.

I guess that the explosion of one of 12's tributes is not haunting her dreams tonight.

My best guess of her dream tonight, would be of the sea.

She's spoken of it to me before, the sea, I mean, during one of our sunset sessions, as I liked to secretly call them, back in the Capitol. She just loves the sea.

'Stop!' A voice suddenly grabs my attention. It's only quiet to me, but I can still pick put what this person is saying.

'Antony, I thought you loved me? I thought—' the voice continues, and I can tell it's female.

'Save me your pathetic ideas of what we were,' a male voice snarls. It sounds almost robotic. Not human. Something isn't right.

These voices are coming from above us, so they must be on ground level. Just as the previous death was. Whether that's significant or not, I have no idea as of yet.

'Antony, stop,' the girl sobs. 'You promised—'

'Promised what? It was lies, Annalise, all lies.'

The girl wails again. She's bound to die.

Either this Antony will get her, or another tribute, probably 7, will hear her cries and sort her out.

There's a scream, quickly cut off, then the firing of a cannon, and an audible zapping sound. Whatever that was, I'm not sure.

Thamilia stirs at the sound of the cannon and I beg her telepathically to stay asleep

But, of course, she doesn't.

Why doesn't telepathy seem to ever work for me? I did the same at the reaping; hope not to be picked. But hey ho, despite it seeming like all the odds were in my favour, I was chosen. Damn. Just my luck.

'What happened?' Her eyes flicker around the room with lightning speed.

Thamilia has already established herself to be the leader of this gang, so I watch myself and my mouth around her. One wrong word, and I could be dead within seconds.

Her killing is quick, but somewhat merciful compared to what I've seen in the past during my compulsory viewing of the Games back home.

I saw it during the bloodbath, her killing.

'Another one's dead,' I say bluntly. She wants the facts, nothing else.

'Any idea who?'

'None.'

'I suppose we'll find out tomorrow, then, hm?'

'Yes,' I say, she falls back onto her side and soon drifts off again.

And I'm left to my own thoughts again. Joy.

So, who's gone?

Yes, I refer to the fallen tributes as being gone, rather than killed or murdered.

I like to think that it'll soften the blow if I do eventually kill.

Really it definitely doesn't though.

It's still another life taken.

A murder.

It's likely we'll all become murderers.

Perhaps what that girl from 12 did was best?

Die her own way.

Die rather than murder, or be murdered.

Because that's what it is in this game, isn't it? Murder or be murdered.

Anyway. I've gone off on a tangent slightly, again.

The fallen, who happen to be gone from this world permanently.

I recall the hologram from the Gamemakers earlier in my mind.

There's the girl from 3, much to my surprise; the tributes from 3 seemed to have a plan sorted between them, then there's the girl from 5, the boy from 10, both from 11, and, of course, the girl from 12.

I begin to the stab the ground to my right with the knife I was handling earlier in an attempt to entertain myself, but I'm failing.

I hear a groan and hope it's not anyone from 1 or 2 awakening.

I wouldn't mind Absidee's company at all.

'Still awake?' her voice says, and I smile. Thank Panem she's awake, not one of the others.

'You fell asleep.'

She smiles, it has to be the first time she has done since entering the arena.

'I guess so.'

'Any nightmares?' I ask softly.

'Not yet.'

I notice the moonlight filtering through the grate. Perhaps there is some light after all.

The little light there is lands on Absidee's head, highlighting her hairstyle, of all things.

It's a braided do, wrapped around her head.

It looks beautiful.

* * *

_FINNICK_.

Me and Selene have agreed on one thing: to have rotating shifts every night.

Seeing as Finnegan and Absidee are together, it seems a good idea for only one of us to stay up and watch the Games.

I prefer staying up anyway.

I fear greatly the possibility that one morning I could wake up to some horrific news.

Second hand information.

I'd rather find out first hand, strangely.

Nothing's happening much at the moment.

6 are dead so far, none of them being any of the Careers.

That girl from 12, when she stepped off the podium just a second to early, shocked the Capitol's citizens, and no doubt shocked Absidee. She saw it herself, and ever since I can see that look she holds in her eyes.

Hopefully it'll leave her soon enough. Hopefully.

But Finnegan and Absidee.

I run my hands through my hair as I observe the screen.

I actually swear something happened between them.

Probably not back home, although that seems to make the most sense.

She never mentioned him once back home. Not once.

But why would she go for him when it's likely he'll die in less than a month?

Perhaps she can't help herself, I have no idea.

But it will kill her when he dies.

It will tear her apart.

I saw her sleeping in his arms back in our district apartment.

And Selene had informed me about how they'd spend hours together, up on the roof, I think.

I'm so worried.

But their closeness just makes me think about Annie, back at home in 4.

This is like my own hell here, trying to help my cousin, my oldest and best friend, survive.

It's thing like being in the Games again, I realise, but I hate it. I detest being here, doing this every year.

But I have no choice.

Just like how I have no choice with Snow selling me in order to gain political favour for himself.

Maybe I should've just done as the girl from 12 did. Stepped off that podium early and ended it quick and easy. Just like that.

But that wouldn't be right.

It'd be selfish. I think.

I look up at the screen again, Finnegan and Absidee are in conversation.

I don't know what about, I don't listen. But I can see them. Growing closer and closer by the minute.

He beckons her over to him, and she falls into his arms.

'No!' I say aloud. What are they doing?

I doubt many citizens will be watching at this time of night, luckily.

Potential sponsors could view this display as a weakness.

If they come as a pair, they could be killed as a pair.

If one dies, the other will probably be overcome by sadness and despair for days and days.

**WEAK**.

Of course they're not weak, though.

At least, not yet.

The arena is unpredictable.

Emotions are unpredictable.

Anyone could break at any time.

You don't know who, why, or when. Or how.

Finnegan whispers into Absidee's ear and I curse under my breath. If he comes back here alive I'll have a few things to say to him.

She smiles happily, and I groan loudly.

'Jeez, what's happened? You're groaning more than that escort of your district's whenever someone hides her wig,' a surprisingly sober voice says from behind me.

'This has happened, Haymitch.' I gesture to the screen above me with agitation.

He studies the images for a moment before sighing. 'Sadly this isn't the first time this has happened, is it?'

I nod. It occasionally happens; either a boyfriend and girlfriend are somehow reaped, or one is reaped and the boyfriend or girlfriend will volunteer to keep the other safe (usually in Career districts), or, even sadder, two tributes just happen to somehow fall in love with each other during the Games.

The second is more common than the others.

'Why are you up at this time of night, Haymitch?' is all I say.

'Couldn't sleep. The ruddy 12 escort has hidden my alcohol.'

Well that explains him actually being sober for once.

'How're your tributes?' I ask.

He points to one of the monitors. 'Not great.

'The boy's a mess, he has no sponsors whatsoever. There's no chance he'll survive the next couple of days, let alone week.'

'I'm sorry,' I say sincerely.

'Don't be. It's the same every year isn't it.'

It's not a question. Just a simple, blunt fact.

The truth hurts, doesn't it?

'Don't look now,' Haymitch says quickly, but his words don't deter me, and if anything, make me look up quicker than ever before.

Up on the screen is something I really don't want to see.

Finnegan and Dee are pressed up against each other kissing.

_What the hell am I going to do?_


	18. Yet Another Victory For The Enemy

**_TAMMY_**.

My eyes are glued to the screen.

I can't help it, it's my brother's first night in the arena.

It's way past the time I'd normally rest, and my boyfriend Sebastien is upstairs sleeping in the same room as my parents — we're staying with them during the Games, we all need support really — but I just want to see how Finnegan is.

I honestly can't tell you how much I've prayed over the past week, ever since he got reaped, and I'm by no means a religious person.

He's lying in that camp of his now. He's in the Career pack, as I expected, so he should do fine. Just fine.

The only thing I could ever worry about would be his allies turning on him.

I know it's very possible that could happen, judging by the look that girl Ruby constantly has on her face. Her and her district partner, Jacob, is it, look extremely untrustworthy. I'd trust them about as far as I could throw them.

But Finn should stick it out with them for a while at least, until it gets dangerous.

He's now talking to his district partner now, Absidee Odair. She's being mentored by her own cousin, if I remember correctly.

She could win quite easily, even not being in an alliance with the Careers.

She has the Finnick Odair as a mentor, for Panem's sakes.

But no.

She seems extremely willing to protect my brother in the arena. Maybe even go as far to risk her life for him.

The reason behind that? I'm not quite sure myself.

But I've seen her searching for him after the initial bloodbath was over. She looked visibly relieved when she found him, in fact.

And, of course, I saw her insist to be able to keep watch, when really she spent the majority of her time just gazing at Finn.

Was there something between them?

I'd be surprised.

Finn never mentioned being interested in any girls when he was home, or having any interest at all in even having a girlfriend.

He just didn't.

He was the boy who wove nets and had that weird obsession with sitting on the roof and watching the sun set.

He just didn't find anything much else than that interesting.

I break out of my thoughts to watch the screen again.

We are able to afford a television device, although a bad one, through the amount of extra money we make.

We're quite well off, luckily for us.

And here I am, sat watching the non compulsory Hunger Games viewing.

Here I am, watching my little brother cosy up to a girl in the middle of a death trap.

_No, Finn, what are you doing?_

Then what he does next is one of the stupidest things I've ever seen him do.

Sadly yes, even stupider than that time when he was younger, a lot younger, that he decided to climb up on the roof for the first time. By himself.

He fell and cried for an hour.

He was a kid, but I still liked to rub that in his face when I saw him. Seb joined in taunting him too sometimes, all good naturedly, though.

We all love each other really.

Well. We used to tease him.

Not anymore.

Even if he does come back, he likely won't be the same, both physically and mentally, will he?

Take Haymitch Abernathy of District 12 as an example.

I doubt he'd ever turned to binge drinking if he hadn't entered the Games.

He could've had a _life._

Scary thought, isn't it?

It'll all be okay, is what they told us back in the days of when we were young and naïve.

It was a common way of consoling people; telling them everything would be okay.

But really, was it ever?

I fall forward onto my knees and begin to pray again.

Well, President Snow, look what you've done.

You've got a non religious girl praying.

You've cracked me.


	19. Unravelling Of A Mind

I awake the next morning in Finnegan's arms, not unlike that one time in the Capitol.

I had a surprisingly good night's sleep, and rub my eyes to get rid of any sleep. And then I realise where I am.

Looking around myself I see the cave like camp out which we reside in's rocky walls, which are, thankfully, untainted with any disturbing substances, aka blood. No one's died in here overnight.

I can't recall last night well, I know I stayed up talking for a while with Finnegan — an unusual thing to do during the Hunger Games.

But it's comforting, I suppose. Makes me feel a degree of normalcy, slightly.

I know I've seen horrors already, but I don't want to recall them.

My brain tries to, but I fight against it.

No.

Only Thamilia is awake at the moment and she's sat fiddling with her weapons she's gathered. She looks up and sees my open eyes and jumps to her feet.

'Time for action,' she says to me. 'This Cornucopia isn't going to guard itself, is it?'

She narrows her eyes at the unconscious forms beneath her. 'This is the Hunger Games,' she spits out. 'I could kill them at anytime, I hope they realise that.'

I make a mental reminder to wake up earlier than Thamilia from now on, lest she kills me, and the rest of us, in our sleep.

Which I don't doubt she'd do.

She proceeds to kick Zamuel, Ruby and Jacob until they wake up. I take a gentler approach to Finnegan, nudging him awake with my hand.

'No need to kick them, Thamilia,' I gasp as I watch her kick Zamuel extra hard.

This causes her to cast me one of the harshest glares I've ever seen. I regret opening my mouth at all and pause my shaking of Finnegan.

'Don't tell me what to do, 4,' she growls and I hold back a gulp. I can't look frightened or weak in front of her. She continues. 'I can get to you,' she tilts her head to Finnegan, an evil smile upon her face. I'm beginning to think I was wrong to feel so uneasy around Ruby: Thamilia is the clear leader of this alliance, and a huge threat. 'Don't think I didn't see you earlier. Sleeping in his arms? How sweet.'

She picks a knife up from the ground and strides over to Finnegan. I move in front of him quickly, protectively.

'Oh, move over,' she sighs, her eyes taunting. 'I'm just going to wake up your... boyfriend.' She lingers on the word.

I step to the side; she wouldn't kill Finnegan, would she? It's too earlier in the Games for that. She shouldn't hurt him badly either, that'd just inconvenience the alliance on a whole.

I run my hands over my face as Thamilia looks Finnegan up and down.

He's just slumped against the wall looking pretty helpless.

The others are up now, sleepy, but onlookers to the scene unfolding. I can only hope they don't really know what's going on, and won't know to use Finnegan as a weapon to weaken me.

Thamilia crouches down and presses her knife's tip to Finnegan's cheek. It hasn't left an indentation yet, but I still bite my lip. What is she going to do?

Thamilia looks up at me, right into my eyes, and throws me a smile, not unlike the horrible one she wore earlier. 'Don't worry,' she smirks. 'It won't hurt him too much. I'll try not to damage that nice face of his too much.'

She curves a line into his cheek, it doesn't look too deep, much to my relief, but blood gushes out. His eyes suddenly open and he bolts upright, bashing his head lightly on the uneven rock wall.

I try not to show my weakness for him by stepping back so I'm with the others.

Finnegan uses his shirt to try to stem the blood flow, and Zamuel chucks him a length of bandage, which he must've got from one of our rucksacks. I smile at him, feeling glad I stopped Thamilia from kicking him again a few minutes before.

'Now,' Thamilia turns to face us. 'Let that be a lesson to all of you. Be awake on time, or face the consequences.'

She marches over to underneath the large drain, the only place where light will filter through, and pushes the drain aside, then heaves herself up through the hole. The others follow suit and I wait last so I can help Finnegan with his minor wound.

'Do you feel alright?' I ask.

'Hurts a bit,' he smiles weakly. 'No big deal though, it could be worse.'

'I'll get Thamilia back sometime,' I promise him through a whisper. I can't risk being heard by anyone.

'You're too kind.'

I get up onto the ground above our camp and then help Finnegan through. Not that he needs it, really.

Thamilia stomps over. She looks mad.

'Lovebirds, you need to hurry the hell up. You just missed a tribute,' she says.

'What?' I say.

'We just saw a tribute trying to steal from the Cornucopia, and she got away, no thanks to you two.'

Now I'm the one feeling angry. How is that our fault in the slightest?!

'We're sorry,' Finnegan apologises on my behalf. It's probably best I don't speak right now; my angry words could get us both killed.

Thamilia eyes us both up and down. 'You're forgiven... for now.'

She hurries off to the others, who are scanning the forest for potential prey.

'She infuriates me,' I groan.

'Don't let her get to you,' Finnegan says.

'Easier said than done.'

We catch up with the rest of our allies, and Thamilia's assigning us all posts. A quick glance at my allies' faces tells me I'm not the only one bothered by Thamilia.

I feel bad to hope that she gets killed off soon.

'Jacob, you guard the Cornucopia with Zamuel.' They both nod.

'Ruby, you stay with me. We're going hunting for tributes.' Thamilia says this accompanied by a sadistic smile. Killing must be her idea of fun. I no longer feel bad to hope she dies as soon as possible.

'And then you two,' she looks at me and Finnegan with contempt. 'Go and explore. Try not to get killed? If you do... well, it won't be such a loss anyway.'

Rage bubbles up inside me. I know she wants me to sink to her level and perhaps even fight with her. But that'd just get me killed. Then Finnegan.

We all split up to go to our different tasks. I can hear Ruby and Thamilia's twisted laughter as they run into the woods, maybe already in pursuit of another tribute.

I hear screams about ten minutes after we all split up. Ruby and Thamilia must've found someone. I find myself grasping for Finnegan's hand in the darkness and I find him.

'Are you okay?' he asks me.

I hear pleading. 'Yes.'

I have to be alright for the cameras, and for my family. If I seem to be breaking down it won't gain me any sponsors. My plan to save Finnegan won't succeed.

'Okay,' he says, and leads me by my hand further into the trees.

Shadows seem to dance upon my mind, am I imagining it all or not? We progress forward anyway.

I jump when the cannon sounds, half expecting to be dead within seconds. But I'm not.

A scream pierces the silence and continues for minutes, someone cries out repeatedly. I tug at Finnegan's arm for us to turn around, it doesn't feel right out here.

But it's too late.

'Absidee,' he says, and I whirl around.

Someone I never expected to see again is stood before me.

'Finnick?' I breathe.

He's stood there, trident in hand, unmoving.

How could this happen? How is this possible?

He smiles for a few moments, a smile I've never seen Finnick wear before.

Finnegan slides a knife out from his belt before I can stop him, and I just stand there, gawping. How could this be happening?

I throw all reason out of the window.

My best friend is here. I feel the urge to cry with happiness, but I want to get Finnick out of this place. How is he here? How?

'Absidee,' is the only thing Finnick says to me before he runs at me, trident raised above his head.

He lurches out at me, his trident catching my arm. I yell out, dropping the spear I was carrying.

'Run!' Finnegan shouts at me, but I can't leave him. Confusion is overwhelming me. Why is Finnick trying to kill us?

I feel like a child trying to wrap their head around their first maths sum at school.

Trying to understand how to tie their first knot.

I can't.

Finnegan slashes out at Finnick, and I grab at his arm. He has to stop. Something's wrong, Finnick wouldn't do this.

Have I made him angry somehow? Perhaps that's why.

'Finnegan, stop it!' I shout at him, but it's like trying to control the sea during one of its storms. It doesn't happen.

'Absidee, go,' Finnegan shouts back.

I pull with all my strength on his arm as Finnick pulls back his arm, going in for the fatal strike.

Finnegan finally backs away, just missing the trident by millimetres.

I grab his hand and sprint away from the nightmare. We reach the clearing where the Cornucopia is situated within minutes, puffing and panting.

'What the hell happened?' shouts a voice I didn't expect; Jacob's.

'Mutt,' says Finnegan.

What mutt does he speak of? We only saw Finnick!

'Finnick isn't a mutt, Finnegan!' I say, and flop to the ground. We might be safe here. Finnick must've given up. I hope he's not too mad at me.

'Absidee, he wasn't real!' Finnegan tells me. 'He was a mutt, manufactured by the Capitol to look like Finnick. They would never actually bring Finnick in here.'

'What?' I hope he's telling the truth.

'It's the only logical explanation,' Zamuel reassures me.

I sigh loudly in relief. I'm OK. Finnegan's OK. Finnick's OK.

'Where's Ruby?' Finnegan says, and I notice her absence for the first time.

'Down at the camp. Screaming it out into her rucksack for something or other, I should think,' Jacob says casually.

'Why?' I say quietly. I'm still trying to get over the shock of what just happened.

'Thamilia's dead,' says Zamuel.

'Oh god,' says Finnegan. 'How?'

'Only Ruby knows, but she's hysterical at the moment. She should calm a bit, soon enough,' Jacob says. 'Must've been pretty bad, though.'

I lie back and survey my injury. A bloody arm.

Nothing much.

What could've happened to Thamilia haunts my thoughts for some strange reason.

Why?

I don't know.


	20. Thamilia

Night has fallen, and me and the rest of my allies are resting in our camp now.

The others haven't killed any tributes today; no one has died other than Thamilia.

What could have killed her though?

The sickening thoughts roll through my mind, I don't know why I want to know so much, I don't.

Is it because she was so strong?

She wouldn't have been killed easily.

Maybe it was the huge boy from 7.

Or perhaps it could've been something the Capitol conjured up.

Finnegan's still trying to convince me that Finnick wasn't real, it was just a mutt.

I want to believe him, I do, but I just can't.

The shadow of doubt hangs over me.

What if it was him?

It seems completely unbelievable to everyone else, but to me it's not.

Finnegan told the others what had happened a few minutes ago, Ruby simply stared into space, still in shock, I expect, Zamuel offered me some sympathy — I like him the most of all of our alliance, aside from Finnegan, of course — and then Jacob didn't say anything. He just looked at me as though I were crazy for persisting that it could be Finnick.

Of course he wouldn't say anything though.

I'm Finnick Odair's cousin, and anything against him or any of his closest family from Jacob could harm his chances of winning.

'So what do you think got Thamilia?' Jacob says.

'Is this an appropriate topic of conversation?' Zamuel says and nods his head toward Ruby.

I don't think she's even acknowledged what we're talking about, though. I frown. Ruby's recent falling into a disconnected-from-everyone-else state has to be hurting her odds of winning, which'll affect how many sponsors she gets. I don't think she cares, though.

Jacob shrugs. 'Might as well figure it out. It'll help us know what we're up against.'

'I suppose so,' Zamuel says and falls back and rests his head on a bundled up sleeping bag.

Jacob continues. 'The boy from 7 is my bet.'

'Maybe it was what tried to kill Finnegan and Absidee?' says Zamuel, staring at the ceiling.

'It was pretty brutal,' Finnegan adds to the conversation.

'Well,' begins Jacob. 'If it was the boy from 7, it definitely confirms my suspicions. The boy from 7 is a real competitor.'

I speak now. 'And the boy from 3.'

'What?' spits out Jacob. 'Don't be ridiculous, 4, he's a pruny little thing, he'll die soon enough.'

'She has a name, and she's not being ridiculous, for all you know,' hisses Finnegan.

'Okay,' groans Jacob. 'Odair. What makes you think that 3 is someone to worry about, huh?'

I try not to roll my eyes. That'll infuriate him. 'You must've seen that sly look in his eye,' I say. 'He's from the Technology district, he'll most likely be able to use the arena to his advantage. Somehow.'

'Yeah, Odair, but his partner in crime's dead now, isn't she?'

'Yes.'

'Exactly.' He sighs in an exasperated manner.

'His partner may be gone, but it doesn't mean his plans will suddenly disappear,' I say. 'Sure, they'll most likely be harder to pull off, but he's motivated. The tributes from 3 were probably friends, or something like that, if they made plans for the Games. He will want to avenge her death.'

Jacob sits in silence for a few moments, taking in my theory, before he smirks at me. 'Well, Odair, nice theory. Let's just wait and see whether it is correct, hm?'

Finnegan is suddenly infuriated. He jumps to his feet, rounding in on Jacob. It's a dangerous move on his part, but I'm numb, I just can't move. I want to hear what he says in my defence.

'Absidee's theories are a lot better than yours, believe me. The boy from 7? What would he do that would traumatise Ruby so much?'

Jacob stands as well, pulling a curved knife from his belt. I shudder. He wouldn't... would he?

He puts the knife up to Finnegan's throat, and I try to yell, shout, or anything, but nothing comes out.

'Speak to me like that again, and I'll kill you without a second's thought,' he says with venom.

And that's when I know that me and Finnegan have to get out of this Career pack.

I want to bring Ruby with us, she's so vulnerable, but I know I can't.

She'll have to die some time, and I'd never want it to be by me.

I'd like to die having killed no one.

We'll get out soon enough, me and Finnegan will. In a couple of days, at the most.

Maybe even a couple of days will be too late, though.


	21. Insanity Taken, Fools Mistaken

Days pass and Jacob's attitude worsens.

Ruby's still not speaking much, whenever she does it's just nonsense anyway.

Zamuel is the only sane one in our group, aside from me and Finnegan. He's the only one I really like.

Jacob's too irritable now and has a constant scary look in his eyes, and Ruby, well, she just isn't herself anymore. Not that her old self was that likeable, though.

'Shut _UP_!' Jacob shouts for the third time today. It's Ruby he shouts out, of course. She's whimpering again.

We still haven't found out what happened to Thamilia.

'She can't help it,' says Zamuel.

'I don't care, 2.' Jacob never refers to any of us by our names. Perhaps it'll make it easier for him to kill us. Something like that.

We're all by the Cornucopia on guard yet again. We do this day in day out.

Jacob occasionally goes out to hunt for tributes, forcing Zamuel to go with him. They take a couple of hours, Zamuel coming back looking unhappy and Jacob triumphant.

We see the faces of who they, or shall I say Jacob, have killed later in the day.

In the past few days the boy from 12, both from 6, both from 9 and the girl from 10.

Which leaves, if I'm correct, 9 of us. All of us from the Career pack, the boy from 3, the huge boy from 7, the boy from 5 and the boy from 8.

No faces light up the sky this night though, which absolutely enrages Jacob. He's insane.

Me, Zamuel and Finnegan sit talking at camp whilst he goes off on another hunt to find tributes. Nothing kills him. Nothing gets him like it got Thamilia.

'Jacob's going to kill us soon,' Zamuel states simply. It's a fact; he will kill at least one of us soon.

'First Ruby. Then me. You know how I disagree and argue with him all the time,' he continues.

'You should leave.' Finnegan says. 'Get out as soon as possible. He's going to snap within the next day or two if he doesn't kill anyone.'

'Yes. You should probably leave now,' I add.

'But leaving ensures that Ruby dies,' Zamuel says with a frown. 'That's basically like me killing her.'

'No, it's not,' I say and touch his shoulder. He fiddles with the cuff of his trousers for a minute before looking up into my eyes.

'Well, I'm not leaving now anyway. 1 should be on his way back now.'

'1?' I ask, clueless, but then I realise who he means. 'Oh, Zamuel, you're going to refer to him like he refers to us now?'

'Why not?'

'Well–' I begin.

'No.' Finnegan cuts me off. 'It's fine.'

'If you say so, then,' I say quietly.

Silence.

'Wouldn't it be nice if something got _1 _while he was out there. I don't know, if a tribute fought back perhaps–' I stop myself with a gasp. Am I wishing death upon someone? That's the worst thing anyone could ever do, in my opinion. Aside from actually killing them, of course.

'That would be best, I hate to say it, though,' says Zamuel. I'm glad someone agrees with me.

'I'm not as bad as them for saying that, am I?' I ask.

'Of course not.' Zamuel speaks again. Finnegan stays quiet, staring down at the ground.

A thudding sound as someone hits the ground. Jacob's back.

I shudder. What will tonight bring?

'NO ONE!' he shouts, his rage bouncing off the walls. 'NOT A SINGLE TRIBUTE.'

'She's in pieces,' Ruby whimpers, the now typical look of shock upon her face. It's constant now, that look is.

Only recently, in the past few hours, has she began to say things like 'she's in pieces', though.

'Who's in pieces?' Jacob says, his voice dangerously quiet.

Finnegan, Zamuel and I look over from our corner we were sat in to the situation unravelling between Jacob and Ruby.

'She's in pieces,' Ruby repeats. 'He cut her up and she's in pieces.'

'Who is in pieces?!' Jacob shouts at her, clearly agitated. 'Thamilia?! Are you talking about Thamilia?'

'She's in pieces, spread in the forest.'

'YOU INSANE LITTLE GIRL!' he yells on the edge of hysterics. I fear so much that this could be the moment he flips. I'd have little chance of protecting Finnegan. I don't think I'd be able to bear seeing Zamuel die, either. I don't doubt that Jacob would draw it out.

Ruby rocks back and forth, covering her ears. She certainly seems to have the mental capacity of a child now. How horrifying for her family back home though. To see her reduced to this.

'She's gone, she's gone, left us all alone, Jacob has no hand to hold–' Ruby sings, only to be cut off by Jacob's fist hitting her.

The look of absolute shock on his face is priceless, I feel the urge to laugh before remembering that this is not a funny matter.

'How dare you?' he can barely get his words out. 'How could you?!'

What? It doesn't make sense what Ruby said. I don't even try to comprehend it either as Jacob balls his hand into a fist again and pulls his arm back.

'No!' Zamuel shouts all of a sudden.

Jacob's eyes tear from Ruby's cowering body to Zamuel, who's glaring at him with an intense loathing.

'Oh, 2.' He walks a couple of steps closer to Zamuel, sliding a knife from his belt. I don't think his specific skill is knives, from what I saw during training and during these Games, but he can't be too bad with a knife. Or it's just the only weapon he has to hand.

Why am I thinking of this? He could be about to kill one of the two people I actually like in these Games.

'You think you can stop me from killing her? You can try.' He pauses, a lunatic smile spreading across his face. 'Why do you care anyway? That's what interests me. She's completely _useless._ Mental.'

'She's still human,' Zamuel spits his words out at him. 'Why do you treat her as if she's some kind of animal?'

'She certainly acts like one.'

At this, Zamuel lurches toward him, grabbing at him, but Finnegan is up in a flash, holding Zamuel's arm in a tight grip. 'No,' he says in a low voice. 'Don't.'

'Well, I hope you enjoy watching your _friend_ die, 2,' Jacob says, his twisted smile remaining on his features as he bends down to Ruby's level.

He's sure to make her death long and painful, much to my horror. She's annoyed him that much. He doesn't even care that she's from his district. That her family will have to watch this. That his family will have to watch him murder yet again. That if he does somehow manage to return home, he'll be treated with hostility wherever he goes.

Does he care about anything anymore?

I doubt it.

He's unfeeling. Full of anger and hatred.

He pulls Ruby to her feet and pushes her against the wall. Knife in his hand, he raises it up to her face and gets ready to give her blinding pain.

I want to do something, but every time I try to move, I can't. It's impossible.

I think Jacob wants to leave his mark though. A bit like Thamilia when she gave Finnegan the wound on his cheek.

Jacob digs the knife into Ruby's cheek and she begins to make little noises of pain, growing louder and louder by the second.

I feel like throwing up.

Zamuel goes for Jacob again, but Finnegan pulls him back again. 'You'll get yourself killed, don't. She was bound to die anyway,' he tries to reassure Zamuel, but he still tries. It seems Finnegan is stronger though, thank god.

Minutes later Jacob seems nearly done mutilating Ruby's face. Nausea swills about inside me, rising up then disappearing. I want everything to go away.

He pulls back his knife before slitting her throat, and Ruby drops to the floor. Her strangled yelps finally end. Her cannon fires.

'Well,' Jacob looks Zamuel in the eyes and speaks tauntingly. 'Want to come and take a peek?'

He steps back from Ruby and I tear my eyes away from the scene. If I look I'll never be able to unsee. It'll haunt my nightmares for as long as I live.

'You're so much crazier than Ruby ever was!' Zamuel shouts with disgust. 'Why can't you see that?'

'For the exact same reason you can't keep your mouth shut so you don't make foolish remarks, 2.'

My eyes want to see, but I don't want to. I keep them closed for as long as possible before they force themselves open.

The sight is horrific. I know that Jacob has gone insane as soon as I see the state Ruby's face is in.

A smile has been carved into a face, despite the fact that one hasn't graced her face for quite a while now, I'm sure. Jacob's also added the number 1 multiple times over her face in varying sizes. His idea of pity, I'm sure. Letting her die with a bit of home with her. It's sick.

'Ooh, 4 likes it.' Jacob targets the look of revulsion on my face. 'I'm sure she specifically loves the 1 touch, eh? After all, I've heard how much 4 loves her home.'

'Shut up,' Zamuel says. He's just playing along unknowingly with Jacob. Jacob's entertaining the Capitol quite a lot right now, I'm sure. Every camera will be on this scenario.

'You want to die too?' Jacob grins.

No no no no no.

I can't see this.

Jacob walks slowly towards Zamuel, then in a sudden movement grabs him by the neck. It's over for him now.

'I intend to make this awful for you, you fool.'

Finnegan steps back instinctively. He knows to try and save Zamuel will be like suicide. Zamuel will not live.

Tears leak down my face.

There goes my resolve to not be weak, but I can't care less.

Finnegan grabs our backpacks as Jacob begins to kick Zamuel with horrendous force. He intends to beat him to death. The tears flow faster.

Zamuel begins to cry out in pain, and it takes all my being not to try to pull Jacob off him.

'Come on,' Finnegan whispers hurriedly to me. 'We have to leave.'

No words come from my mouth, I can't speak. I gesture to Zamuel.

'We have to. We can't stay here Absidee, I can't let him do the same to you, I can't. We must go. We _must_.'

I nod silently and we move soundlessly to underneath the exit.

But Jacob sees us and throws Zamuel to the ground. I look back; Zamuel's battered and bruised to the point of being unrecognisable. Where his face was before handsome, it's now swollen up.

He doesn't plead with me. He knows he's a goner.

But this just breaks my heart even more.

'Where do you two think you're going? I don't mind killing another two tonight.'

Of course you don't, Jacob. Of course you don't.

He grabs me by the arm and I grit my teeth to hold back a scream. Finnegan whirls around and growls at Jacob. 'Get off her.'

Jacob doesn't listen and picks up a sword which is beside his feet. That must be his speciality.

In the few seconds that Jacob's unfocused, Finnegan pulls me away from him and to the exit. We both get away and out in the seconds it takes Jacob to notice and we're away.

Ish.

Jacob swings for my back with the sword as I climb up and ends up giving me a cut along the bottom of my back.

He yells out in rage as me and Finnegan run away into the forest. I can hear him.

I'm sure he'll be taking out his rage on Zamuel.

Poor Zamuel. I hope it ends as soon as possible for him. I really do.


	22. Lone Survivor

'Finnegan?' I say, my heart beating at a terrifying speed. 'Finnegan, where are you?'

I take caution not to be too loud, scared by the likelihood of either Jacob coming to get us or the boy from 7. Or Finnick. Or Finnick's _mutt, _shall I say.

I'm scared. Finnegan just disappeared. One minute I was discussing how we'll get food with him – the Cornucopia's off limits – and then he was just... gone.

A hissing sound comes from above me and I jump, startled.

'Absidee, look,' a voice says and my hand jumps for my knife instinctively before I realise it's just Finnegan. I retract my hand from the knife in embarrassment and glare up at Finnegan's form in the tree above me.

'What the heck are you doing?' I angrily whisper. 'I thought you were gone!'

My anger disappears and relief floods through me.

'Sorry,' he says shortly.

'How did you get up there anyway?' I say, but as the question leaves my lips I realise the answer. He used to climb onto his roof back in 4 every night, didn't he? Of course.

'Ignore that. Why are you up a tree?' I shake my head.

'We need a place to sleep, don't we?' Finnegan says.

'The floor is good as well,' I say stubbornly.

'The floor? You'd be spotted easily. We're not in the Career pack anymore, Absidee. Other tributes have little reason to fear us,' Finnegan dismisses my suggestion. 'You scared of heights?' I shake my head. 'Well, that's good then. Come on up.'

Come on up? I've only ever climbed a tree once before, and that was as a dare when I was younger. There were good climbing trees on the outskirts of our district, so when I was with Finnick and his friends once hanging around that area, they dared me to climb one of the trees. I did, but very carefully.

I never told my mum I'd done that; she'd have had a fit.

'Alright,' I agree, accepting the challenge. I take his words as a challenge of sorts, and I think he means them in that way as well.

I go back to being in District 4 and being dared to climb the tree, and completely forget I'm even in the Games.

I study the tree for a couple of moments, then place my foot on a piece of thick bark which sticks out from the tree trunk low to the ground. Heaving myself up, I grab the lowest branch which is to my right. I pull myself up onto the next highest branch after that one, and continue, slow and steady. I'll get quicker after a couple of goes, I'm sure.

It feels like half an hour has passed by the time I reach Finnegan on one of the top branches of the tree, which is still thick enough to hold him, surprisingly. He smiles at me.

'That was a good effort. Of course, we won't need to sleep this high, though.'

'Thank Panem.' I glance at the ground below me anxiously.

I don't have a fear of heights, much, but as any normal human being should, I feel a little nervous at the prospect of falling.

'So, want to go back down again?'

Oh god. I'd forgotten we had to go back down again.

'In a minute,' I try to sound not bothered by the fact we still have to go back down. 'Can I have a minute to just look around?'

Finnegan smiles again. 'Sure. I'll climb down in the meantime. And remember,' he has a hint of mischief in his eyes, one I haven't seen from him during these Games yet. 'I'll be there to catch you if I fall.' He laughs. Oh. Hilarious.

I feel giddy all of a sudden, but not from the height we're at.

'See you at the bottom,' I say, not daring to look down at Finnegan. He's already begun the descent down.

I gaze around myself. It's a lovely day. The sun warms me, and the sky is a beautiful azure blue. But this warns me of something horrible approaching.

The Capitol would probably want the heavenly weather to put us at peace.

A shiver of fear runs through me.

What are they planning?

I'll think about that on the ground. When I can think straight.

My tree sways a little.

The Cornucopia glints in the sun. I can see it from up here clearly. And as expected, 1 figure stands guarding it.

Jacob.

He's really arrogant enough to guard the Cornucopia by _himself_?

Obviously so.

Where's Zamuel?

I wonder what's happened to him. His cannon has yet to go off, and I would've heard it. There's been nothing wrong with my hearing or anything like that that would assure that I wouldn't hear Zamuel's cannon, so I'm curious.

Has Jacob adopted him as an ally? Unlikely.

Left him to die? Probably.

Making his death long and painful.

Just like he said. 'I intend to make this awful for you.'

And so he will.

I pray it ends soon for Zamuel.

I begin my descent to ground level, soon enough reaching the ground with no slip ups. I feel like kissing the ground, but don't. That'd be slightly awkward.

More than slightly embarrassing.

'So, you were saying. Plans for food?' Finnegan says nonchalantly to me.

'We could try to hunt. I heard rumours back at home of citizens of the more outlying districts hunting. Those rumours might not be true, but if they are, then if they can do it, why can't we? We can make nets, tie knots,' I say, and Finnegan nods along, a smile growing on his face.

'But if that fails, which, with a bit of luck and skill, it won't, then we'll either have to resort to sponsors or sneaking food from the Cornucopia.' Risky choices. Me and Finnegan both know it.

You can't just rely on sponsors the whole time for everything, you'll eventually lose all your sponsors when they see that you only rely on sponsors for food, and lack any survival skills at all. Survival skills are just as important, if not more, as skill with weapons.

Then sneaking food for the Cornucopia is even riskier. Jacob will kill us without hesitation if he gets the chance.

And if we do try to do it anyway, it's pretty much certain that the Capitol will set it up so me and Finnegan meet Jacob in our attempt.

'Stealing from the Cornucopia is a complete no go,' says Finnegan and I sigh in relief. 'Our best bet is hunting and relying on sponsors a little as well.'

'Good idea.'

We spend the rest of the afternoon using the long grasses around us to weave nets for catching food. We're not disturbed once, thank god. I keep waiting for Jacob to emerge through the trees, though.

'How are your wounds?' says Finnegan at one point.

I'd almost forgotten about them, surprisingly.

The injury on my lower back doesn't pain me at all. Then my arm. Nothing.

It just doesn't hurt.

'They're fine. How's your cheek?' I shrug off my injuries.

'Absolutely lovely.'

I smile at his choice of vocabulary.

* * *

We're just settling down into our tree. Night has fallen.

We set up a couple of traps earlier, far enough out that no one would be able to locate us if they stumbled across them, but also close enough that it isn't a horrendous trek to check them every so often.

Strapped in safely, I look up at the stars.

I know they're fake, made by the Capitol, but nevertheless, they're beautiful.

Ironically, the Capitol, the people who make these Games occur every year, who are so ugly inside, make such beautiful things. Their architecture is beautiful, their gardens are beautiful.

And I only saw a small part of the Capitol when I was there.

Finnick could probably tell me more, I think.

I don't mean that in a horrible way, either.

I've gone past feeling resentment towards him for what he's done.

It's not his fault. Nowhere near.

A moan breaks the silence.

I bolt up.

'Finnegan,' I whisper so quietly I'm surprised he even hears me. 'Did you hear that?'

The noise has scared me. What could be down there?

'Of course I heard it, Absidee. But don't you dare think of going down there. I'm not losing you just because you think that moan is Zamuel,' he hisses to me and I nearly fall out of the tree. And I would have, if I hadn't been belted in.

'I never thought it was Zamuel,' I say faintly.

Finnegan swears under his breath. 'You're not going, you're not.'

I'm struck by his harsh attitude.

'I can't just leave him, Finnegan!'

'You have to. It could be a mutt.'

'Zamuel isn't dead yet, you know that.' And that's the last thing I say before I climb down the tree.

'Dee, you moron,' says Finnegan, louder now. But his voice goes quiet again when he says, 'I wonder why I even like you sometimes.'

I don't think he meant for me to hear that.

But I can't think about that now. Zamuel needs help.

'Zamuel, is that you?' I say in a hushed voice.

'Absidee?' says a pained voice. 'Are you with Finnegan?'

'Yes,' I say. I completely disregard any ideas that this could be a potential trap, stupidly.

'Dee it's as if you're asking to be killed,' Finnegan hisses at me again.

'Jacob left you to die?' I ask Zamuel softly, ignoring Finnegan.

Zamuel barely chokes his words out. 'Yes, he did. He's Jacob though, right?'


	23. Lost

'How long did it take you to get here? How did you get out?' I fire the questions at Zamuel, I can't help myself. My curiosity just overcomes me, even though I know it shouldn't.

I can see out of the corner of my eye that Finnegan still eyes Zamuel with caution, as if he expects him to sprout 10 arms any second and kill us in less than a minute.

What is up with him?

'It must've taken me a few hours to get here. I dragged myself.' Zamuel winces as he pulls himself up against a tree, and I steady him.

I'll ask him more when I've healed him a bit, I'm sure. I'm not much of a healer, but I can try.

I use the supplies we have; a tiny bit of the no pain medicine from the very heart of the Cornucopia, and then use some of the supply of bandages we also have.

I'll give him sleep syrup later to get him to sleep. I'm sure if we had none he'd not sleep a wink. We're so lucky we have this stash, otherwise I'd most likely just have to watch Zamuel die, unless sponsors gave gifts, which I highly doubt they would for the benefit of someone they're not even sponsoring.

I leave Zamuel to rest for a while before my curiosity takes over and asks him on its own accord how he actually escaped.

'Well,' he says. He has much more colour in his face now, a good sign that he's getting a bit better. A tiny bit. 'Jacob was guarding the Cornucopia, and the Cornucopia is right by the main exit which you escaped from, so that was a no go. So I dragged myself through the tunnel system until I reached another exit away from him. I somehow managed to pull myself up, then a few hours later, I came here.'

'Are you angry that we left you?' I say quietly. Finnegan doesn't hear, he's too busy absentmindedly lightly tracing patterns into the tree which he leans against.

'No,' Zamuel shakes his head lightly. 'Of course not. You had no choice. I was going to be a goner.'

'I'm glad you think that. Thank you,' I glance above me. It's pitch black still. I smack my forehead. 'Of course, you must be exhausted.'

I give him small drops of syrup, but enough for what he needs, and he's out within ten minutes.

I look back at Finnegan.

'Finnegan,' I say sharply. He drops his little twig of wood in shock.

'What?'

'Someone needs to keep watch. Zamuel has no chance of getting up the tree. I volunteer to.'

'No,' he shakes his head more vigorously than Zamuel did earlier. 'I will.'

'Are you sure?'

'Positive. I insist.'

Of course he would. He still doesn't trust Zamuel, does he?

As if any mutt would put on a front like this, though. He's just being overly cautious.

I voice my thoughts out loud. At least, one of them. 'You still don't trust Zamuel, do you?' I say.

Finnegan leans his head back. 'And you honestly do?'

'You believe that he's a mutt?' I pass off his question.

'Only partly. You never know, do you? And anyway, if he isn't, you never know how trustworthy he even is,' my mouth drops open, but Finnegan continues regardless. 'Jacob could've bribed him. Zamuel spies for him, and Jacob spares him his life. Do you really think he dragged himself through the entire tunnel system?'

'Zamuel is my friend, I trust him!' I squeak out.

'We have no friends in the arena, Absidee. Shake some sense into yourself, will you? You're getting soft.'

Finnegan's harsh words sting like the pain of salt water in an open wound. What's changed for him in the past few hours?

'Soft?'

'Yes, soft. You trust anyone and everyone now, it seems. You immediately went to go and tend to Zamuel, not hesitating at all. It could've been anyone!' Finnegan's voice grows dangerously loud. I don't worry about Zamuel waking, but being caught by other tributes.

'What happened earlier, then? Did that Finnegan disappear? The one who challenged me to climb up that tree?'

'No, of course not. I was thinking about the incident earlier before I went to sleep, and realised that we are in the Hunger Games, Absidee. One small mistake could be your last. You seem to have forgotten that.'

Anger boils within me, twisting my insides. Why is he saying this?

'So you think I'm stupid, oblivious and nonchalant for these Games then?'

'You're none of that!'

'So you just don't like me?'

Finnegan casts me a look that clearly demonstrates how delusional he thinks I am. 'Are you being insane? I'm so angry at you for growing careless because I care about you so much!'

You could hear a pin drop. I gulp. Unspeaking. That's done it. If Zamuel really is a spy, I doubt he'll have swallowed that medicine. He could be just pretending to be asleep. Listening in.

He'll have so much to report back to Jacob.

I shake off the thought. He wouldn't.

'Right,' says Finnegan quietly. 'You should get to sleep.'

I still don't speak. Slowly climb into my sleeping bag. Close my eyes.

Dream happy dreams.

Wake up in hell.

I dream of a rooftop.

The orange sunset.

I'm sure these are Finnegan's dreams I'm experiencing. But no. I must've adopted a liking to the sunset as well, now.

I wake up to a dreary sky, the sun lazily hovering just below the tops of the trees which surround us.

It's surprisingly early, and yet I'm still not tired.

I head out to check our nets in an attempt to occupy myself. If I do nothing it won't be productive, and besides, my mind will wander and strange thoughts will crawl out of some crevice in the back of my brain.

We've managed to catch a few creatures, which is quite good, and no one's stolen them, or tainted them. At least, to my knowledge.

I hope that it'll be safe, though, as that's all I can do for now.

When I reach camp Zamuel and Finnegan are awake, Finnegan looking even more moody than yesterday.

'I've got food,' I say with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. I don't succeed.

Finnegan smiles grimly at me. 'We can cook it over a small fire, away from here.'

I nod. 'Yeah.'

Me and Finnegan leave Zamuel to guard camp, much to Finnegan's disapproval, and head to cook our meat.

When we reach our desired spot we cook a little for a short amount of time over a small fire, talking a bit as we do so. Not about anything interesting, just where to place more traps etcetera.

'Damn,' I say all of a sudden with realisation. 'I've forgotten some of the meat. Give me a moment, and I'll be back in a few minutes.'

Finnegan frowns but nods. 'Alright.'

I turn, jogging over the soft grass of the woods. We haven't been bothered by any other tributes yet, really, much to our luck.

As I get tired of jogging I slow to a quick paced walk and gaze around myself for a few moments; at the sun rising in the sky, the wind swaying the branches

**BOOM.**

Someone's cannon fires.

I have no idea whose it is.

Jacob, 7, 3? Zamuel?

_Finnegan?_

I pray it isn't Finnegan and run towards our camp, fear making me bound towards my destination rather than walk as I was before, albeit quickly.

I burst through the trees and gasp at the sight before me.

It definitely isn't Finnegan.

I fall back and fall to my knees, running my hands roughly through my hair, muffled cries escaping my mouth as I cover it quickly.

Zamuel lies there, no wounds other than the ones he sustained from Jacob visible.

It was the food.

My food.

It's my fault.

Oh god.

Juice runs from some of the meat, and I know quickly what it is.

Nightlock.

Someone had the clever idea to somehow put nightlock in our catch.

Tears stream down my face, and I pound the floor. Zamuel was innocent, Zamuel killed no one, Zamuel was my friend.

Finnegan said we don't have friends in these Games. I think he's wrong.

Someone runs into our small clearing from behind me, and I feel completely defenceless. They can kill if they wish.

Just don't make it too painful.

'Absidee? Absidee! Oh my god,' arms scoop me up from behind and pull me into an embrace. 'I thought you were dead! Oh thank god so much.'

It's Finnegan. He kisses my head multiple times.

A sob escapes me and he stops.

'What's wrong?' he says. He can't have seen, can he? Otherwise he would know. He wouldn't completely ignore Zamuel's death, would he?

'Zamuel,' I point with one shaky hand.

'Oh...' is all he can say. He hugs me even tighter. We stay like this for minutes. I could stay like this for days.

'Are you okay?' he whispers in my ear.

I shake my head slowly.

'We should clear out before the Gamemakers make us,' he says, and I feel angry for a moment, before he says: 'make your last goodbyes long enough, but not too long. Say goodbye to him in your own way.'

I nod silently and trudge numbly over to Zamuel as Finnegan collects our belongings. Of course we'll move elsewhere. I won t be able to live here. The place where one of my friends died.

Zamuel looks so innocent, lying here in the grass. How could Finnegan have ever accused him of being a spy? It's beyond me.

His glassy eyes make me shudder. He's unseeing. He can't hear my goodbye, or see me one last time, I know, but I wish he could.

Oh, I wish he could.

'Oh, Zamuel,' I sigh, silent tears spilling over and down my cheeks. 'Why do the best have to go? Do you know? Why?'

I try to reserve myself for his family's sake. How could they be feeling? Broken. I feel only a small fraction of what they do.

I run a hand through his hair. 'Goodbye, Zamuel.'

Then I depart, taking one last glance before I pass through the trees.

After that, I don't look back once.

Finnegan grabs my hand.

'This way,' he says.


	24. Undoing By The Hands Of Grief

I cry silently into some moss which covers the bottom of one of many trees.

I've been doing so for hours, and Finnegan hasn't interrupted, luckily.

I continue for a few more minutes, only stopping because I'm interrupted. Not by Finnegan, but by the anthem.

Two tributes have died in the past day; district 5's boy, and of course, Zamuel. As his face illuminates the sky I feel another stab of pain pass through me.

It's a mix of emotions: grief, guilt, anger.

Anger at whoever tainted the food.

Guilt because in a small part of me I feel it was best for Zamuel to die now, rather than me or Finnegan have to kill him later. At least he died quickly. Before he even knew what was happening.

Who am I kidding, trying to make excuses. I feel as if it's completely my fault.

A voice in my head tells me it's not my fault, but then there's another voice, one which reminds me of my sins and blames Zamuel's death entirely on me, and me alone.

I feel as if I'm losing my sanity a little, conflicting with two voices in my head.

But I'm swaying towards believing the voice which says it's my fault.

I shouldn't, I really shouldn't, though.

It'll drive me insane.

'It was my fault, wasn't it?' I say out loud all of a sudden. 'Finnegan?'

'No,' he shakes his head. 'Of course it wasn't. It was nowhere near your fault.'

'You're lying to make me feel better,' I say, accusation in my voice.

'I'm not,' says Finnegan, turning his head to look me straight in the eyes. 'I mean it.'

'Okay,' I say quietly and curl up into a ball and rock myself back and forth. This may be seen as a sign of instability mentally to some viewers, but to me it's an attempt at having fun. The gentle rocking I do almost reminds me of mine and Finnick's little boat back home, the way it moves when a small wave flows beneath us.

* * *

That night I have a million nightmares.

Finnick's mutilated body.

Jacob standing over Finnegan, a bloodied knife in hand and a smile carved in his face.

Edrie being reaped.

Edrie and Coby being reaped at the same time.

Capitol citizens grabbing me after I win the Games.

And Zamuel lying there, dead. Or so it seems, he gets to his feet, begins to blame me for his death. I don't disagree.

I wake up with a start, covered in my own sweat. My own grief will be my undoing.

Finnegan is already awake. 'Another gone in the night,' he says.

'Any idea who?'

'The boy from 8, I suspect. Possibly 3.'

'What do you think got them?' I shudder.

'Jacob. He's angry.'

'Angry?' I say, bewildered. 'But why? Zamuel's dead, he must've seen. Surely he must be happy in some sick way.'

'I suppose. But he's angry he didn't get to kill Zamuel himself. Or kill us, for that matter.'

'Oh.' And I know that Jacob will work extra hard to kill us. He won't appreciate having been escaped from.


	25. On The Edge Of Sanity

'_But in the meantime I'll just wait here and listen to you when you speak, or scream,'_ **— Foster The People, Waste.**

'Shut up,' a voice unfamiliar to my ears growls aggressively. ' _Shut up.'_

My eyes open within a second.

I had been taking an afternoon nap. Finnegan had encouraged it greatly, saying that he'd keep guard and it'd all be fine.

But, of course, afternoon had lapsed into evening. Evening, the time when other tributes hunt us down.

I look around myself, eyes flickering from place to place, not daring to move an inch.

I spot Finnegan just metres away, a knife held to his throat by 7's male tribute.

I quickly scramble to my feet clumsily, reaching for my spear. It's still where it always had been, luckily. It obviously hadn't crossed our attacker's mind to take my weapon. All brawn, no brains. _What about Brawn instead of 7 as a nickname?_ I joke with myself in an attempt to stop myself becoming panicky. I breathe deeply.

Brawn smiles, his fingers tightening around his knife's handle.

'Don't do anything stupid, Odair. Your boyfriend could be dead within seconds. I hope you fully get that,' he says, easily restraining Finnegan as he struggles, just with his arm.

'I do,' I say, glad of the steadiness of my voice.

'Well, that's great.' He laughs, a cold, soulless laugh. 'This is hilarious. Jacob told me this would be good.'

'What did Jacob say?' I demand, the words slipping from my lips by accident.

'Oh, not much. Just that the proper way to get to you was through your district partner.' He laughs again. 'Nothing big.'

My feet are rooted to the ground. One false word or movement and Finnegan could be gone within seconds. I can't let that happen.

'Cat got your tongue?' Brawn sniggers.

'No,' I answer. This is the only chance I have to save Finnegan. It's give or take whether Brawn will actually do what I expect him to, though. If he doesn't, I'm dead. For certain. 'But Zamuel will soon have you.'

Brawn turns around quickly. I have to do what I have to do to save Finnegan. Aim, throw the spear. And it's done.

The spear hurtles through the air.

I know it's hit my target by the scream that pierces the air.

I blur my vision, I don't see him dying. I never want to see him. This is a show of cowardice on my part, but I couldn't care less.

But my eyes are itching to be opened, to witness the watershed before them.

They prise themselves open and I feel the urge to throw up. I'm a monster.

I condemned the others for killing, but now I've joined their ranks.

I struck to kill. It wasn't just defence on my part.

It seemed the only thing to do.

But now...

Finnegan runs towards me having escaped Brawn's muscly arms, a look of horror upon his face which I will not forget for the rest of my life.

Brawn is lying on his back on the ground, sprawled just feet from us. The empty look in his eyes is another I'll never forget for as long as I shall live. He'll haunt me. I deserve it.

The sound of his cannon fills the arena.

He died quickly. I realise that he turned around as the spear was heading through the air towards him, guaranteeing him a blow to the heart. A flash death, but death no less.

My breathing quickens. I'm panicking.

Finnegan grabs my hand and picks up our possessions briskly, swinging them over his shoulder.

He now looks reasonably calm. Whether he's looking like that for me or not, I don't know. It's my best guess that inside he really is hyperventilating, but I don't know.

We reach a humble clearing a little north of our old camp and set up there. Finnegan wants to go out and look for food, but I beg him not to go. It's not for my own selfish benefit, at least, but for him. I'm not having anyone hurting him, or getting close to hurting him ever again.

Maybe it is a bit selfish, actually.

I lean into Finnegan's shoulder, his arm wrapped around me for comfort.

'Why aren't you disgusted by me?' I ask him. 'I just murdered someone. I'm a _murderer_.'

'You're not the murderer. We all know who the only murderer is,' he whispers back soothingly.

I know what he means. 'You promise?'

'I promise.'

He means the Capitol. Even in my state of panic and mental breakdown I can see this.

A scream itches to escape me. I try to let it, but it doesn't. It refuses.

'You're not okay,' I say through gritted teeth. 'He just tried to kill you. Why should you be comforting me?'

'He didn't kill me, though. I'm more worried about you than me, to be honest.'

'Why are you worried about me?' I say with bewilderment. 'I don't have any major wounds. I'm quite unharmed.'

'It's not your physical health that worries me, Absidee,' he admits.

'Okay.' I stare at my boots. 'Do you mind if I scream?'

'What?'

'If I scream.'

'Don't ball it up inside.'

I manage to scream this time. I scream into my shirt as not to attract any more killers. I scream for half an hour. Then I just cry.

Finnegan pulls me closer to him, then lifts my chin up with one hand and begins to kiss me.

It's just comfort kissing, he doesn't know what else to do. He's not just trying to comfort me, it feels like he's trying to comfort himself too.

Despite myself knowing why he's doing this, I can't help the flutter within my stomach.

He pulls away. 'I'm so sorry. I shouldn't do that–'

'No,' I interrupt him mid sentence. 'Please do.'

'You don't have to–'

'Finnegan.'

I lean in again and begin to kiss him. It becomes more and more frantic, and then too much.

I pull away. The rush of feelings is too much for right now.

'Finnegan, I,' I can't finish my sentence. I begin to cry again. Since when did I become such a weepy wreck?

Since I became a murderer, apparently.

'Don't worry,' Finnegan whispers to me. 'Don't worry about a single thing.'

We begin to drift off into sleep, the soft trendils of it pulling us both in.

I'm just about to sleep when I hear him say it, which causes me to doubt myself the next morning.

'You know what?' I'm sure I hear Finnegan say under his breath. 'I think I love you, Absidee.'


	26. It's Time To Be Brave

'_The devil's on your back but I hope you can shake him off,' _– **Foster The People, Waste.**

* * *

'Morning,' Finnegan's voice meets my ears.

I'm lying on my back in the forest, still. Nothing's changed, aside from the new blanket which is spread over me. It's only thin, but it's something.

'Another parachute arrived this morning,' Finnegan tells me.

I'm surprised, but this makes me feel happier. We must have quite a few sponsors; this far into the Games gifts will cost a fortune.

'Great,' I smile for the first time in a while. It almost feels like a strange sensation, it does. 'Anything else?'

'More food, a couple of blankets and a box of matches.' Quite a lot.

I wonder how we managed to get the sponsors to get all this...

And then it dawns on me how. I'd forgotten... _How could I ever forget?_ I'd taken someone's life to be able to gain the sponsors that sent us this. I'd _ proven_ I could take another life to the Capitol audience, which meant even more sponsors for me. Better for me and Finnegan.

But that doesn't change the cold truth, does it?

I _killed_ someone. I murdered someone.

'Absidee, please don't beat yourself up about what happened last night.' I notice Finnegan gazing at me with concern. 'You did what you had to do... It was either him or me. You know that.'

'That doesn't change that I still did it. Alternative realities run through my head every second now, Finn.' It's true. I think of what I could've done instead all the time ever since.

'What would have happened then? Jacob would kill him, or something else. No doubt whatever happened to him, it'd be nowhere near as quick as his death by you was.'

'No matter how true your words are I'll still blame myself. It was me who killed him,' I expect my voice to break, but it doesn't.

'I give up.'

A scream comes from not too far away. Another tribute's.

Another tribute closer to the finale, I shake from the realisation. His cannon.

3's tribute boy's face illuminates the sky. The Gamemakers must've already broadcast Brawn's death.

'Jacob will be hunting us down any moment now,' says Finnegan.

'What?' I breathe. Not yet, surely? This can't be the end.

'It's only us and him left.'

'Oh god.'

'Exactly what I was thinking,' says Finnegan and casts me a sad smile. 'Let's get moving. Drop everything needed for the long term, this is going to be short term. I can feel it.'

We decide to leave behind the sleeping bags, they were a lot to carry, and only carry our weapons, food, and blankets. And then we trek north.

We don't dare head underground, that'd be a death trap if Jacob were to ever catch us at a dead end.

But as we head deeper into the forest different horrors appear. In the forms of the dead.

They don't attack, of course. They just lie there.

Dummies which possess the characteristics of our dead former competitors.

At first I don't get it. It was just dummies with varying hair colours. Nothing horrifying at all.

But then I looked closer; looked at their faces.

One with a sly smile carved into its face. Short, slick dark hair. This dummy is meant to be 3's tribute.

I flip it onto it's front, looking for means to be certain this is meant to be him. The number 3 painted onto its back.

Yes. This dummy is meant to resemble District 3's boy tribute.

As I walk further along I recognise more of the fallen. The District 7 girl had strikingly blonde hair; it was almost white. And her dummy captures that shade to a T.

I see Zamuel, and most hauntingly, Brawn.

They both haunt me.

But at the very end, rather than on the floor in a neat arrangement of limbs, but upright against a tree, is something I didn't expect. My dummy. Finnegan's dummy. And Jacob's.

They are meant to resemble us.

I can see ourselves in them, and it scares me.

But what is the point in having these dummies here?

I don't see one right now.

I try to get into a Gamemaker's mind.

What would scare a tribute?

They explain through actions.

A bloodcurdling scream.

It must be manufactured.

Oh, no. It's multiple screams compiled into one.

Somehow I recognise a scream amongst many.

They've compiled all the dead tribute's last screams into one.

Wow. Really.

'What the hell is going on?' says Finnegan.

'I wish I could tell you.'

I put on a brave face. One of the best ways to protect the ones you love is to show no weakness, right?

Well, I've been a bit crap at doing that until now, so I'm going to start.

Until now I've been a weepy mess. I need to stop. For my family. For Finnegan.

'Absidee... Look at the dummies.'

I whirl around. Just seconds ago the dummies were clean, in a uniformly row. But now it's the opposite.

All of their limbs sprawled in many directions, blood, fake blood, I can only hope, splashed everywhere around them.

But what gets to me the most is the crosses that are now marked on each body–I mean, dummy.

A saying rings throughout my head. 'X marks the spot.'

And I realise what these crosses really signify, what they represent. It's how each and every tribute died.

I step back, filled with hatred and alarm. Hatred towards the Capitol for lacking so much respect towards dead tribute's families. Alarm because I finally get to see what killed each and every one of my competitors.

District 1's girl, Ruby, well, I already knew her end. A slit throat. A horizontal red line across her throat and a neat black cross in the middle of the line demonstrate that.

Then I see Thamilia. Her dummy's head has been completely detached from its body.

So that's why her death plagued Ruby so much that it drove her to insanity. She had to witness Thamilia being beheaded.

I convulse at the thought that I could've been so close to insanity less than a day ago.

The promise I just made to myself to stay strong stays embedded within me.

I can't let my friends and family down. I can't let Finnegan down. It isn't an option.

Zamuel's dummy is simple, no blood splatters it, no wounds are carved into it. Only a simple cross over his representation's lips.

I see everyone.

The girl from 12's dummy is in tiny pieces now, accurately. I'm surprised the Gamemakers didn't see her death as an act of defiance. Or maybe they did, and they're determined to illustrate it as an accident on her account.

Most likely the second option. Not much gets past the Capitol.

The boy from 3 has a pair of floating hands clasped around his neck. Strangled by Jacob, was his death.

I blink. Jacob doesn't care anymore. He'll do _anything_ now he's already made it so is what the Games do to people.

I said I see everyone's deaths, didn't I?

Well, nearly everyone's.

I manage to avert my eyes from Brawn's dummy. Another act of cowardice.

I should be able to accept what I did, rather than trying to avoid it, in a way.

Rather than dwelling on what I could've done.

Footsteps.

Heavy footsteps.

This person doesn't care for being discovered.

There's no one left to discover him, though, is there? It's Jacob.

It's the finale.


	27. Finnegan Maximilian Goldsmith

_'I think I found hell, I think I found something,' _**– The Neighbourhood, Female Robbery.**

* * *

The Gamemakers didn't need to drive us together, did they? They distracted me and Finnegan long enough that Jacob would be able to find us himself. How clever. Shame I didn't see through it.

It doesn't bother me too much. Either way they'd drive us all together somehow. In much worse ways than this, no doubt.

'Well, we meet again,' Jacob sneers. 'I didn't expect you two would last as long as you did, so this is definitely a surprise. You both seemed quite... well, wimpy, in the cave. Refraining from killing? Or were you just too scared to kill? This should be quite easy, if you're too scared to kill.'

'We don't have any time for pleasantries, Jacob,' Finnegan snarls back.

'What can I say? I do like to be polite.' Jacob smirks. 'At least you have the good grace to keep a sense of humour during your last moments, eh?'

'Finnegan won't be dying anytime soon,' I say, sounding a lot braver than I feel.

'So, I suppose you'll be taking his place, then? How brave.' Jacob stares into my eyes, a smirk still on his lips. His attempts at intimidation don't affect me... much.

'I'll do whatever is nessecary,' I answer tightly.

'Whatever you wish. Now, I don't have all day.' Jacob whips a sword out of his belt and twists it in his hand.

I have my spear in my hand still, and Finnegan also pulls out a knife from his belt.

Jacob surprises us, darting forward to Finnegan, and managing to slash him in the arm as he attempts to dodge, provoking a yelp from Finnegan. I move forward and Jacob goes for me, I block his slashes at me with the shaft of my spear and Finnegan stabs Jacob in the leg. He wouldn't go for the fatal hit. At least, not yet.

Jacob cries out from the pain, but then laughs a hollow laugh. 'Is that really the best you've got?' He continues to laugh.

He grabs my spear, then chucks it away fro m him, and me, and goes after Finnegan again.

I rush forward to grab my spear from a clump trees just to the right of us, and turn back to Finnegan and Jacob. They continue to fight for a few minutes, but I just stand there. I can't seem to move. What is wrong with me?

They both mark only minor injuries on each other, little cuts, nothing major at all, and it looks as though Finnegan's got it under control. He has Jacob pinned beneath him. He pays no attention to me watching.

I know it's time.

I have to do what I promised myself I'd do weeks ago.

_At least I get to do it my own way_, I try to console myself. _It's a screw you to the Capitol, isn't it?_

Well, it is isn't it? Suicide during the Games is a screw you to the Capitol. Screw you and your sadistic Hunger Games.

Especially during the finale.

I look up to the sky. 'Goodbye,' I whisper.

I don't dare let my eyes tear up. I must be strong.

I slide a knife out of my belt and raise it up to my throat. I'm about to slit my throat, die a relatively painless death, when Finnegan sees me.

He looks up for one second, as if to sum up the courage to kill Jacob. To kill this boy who has a life back home. A family.

Jacob's changed, yes, but he's still someone's son, friend, maybe even boyfriend. We'll never know.

I definitely will never know.

Just one second is all it takes for Finnegan to see me, to realise what I'm about to do.

'NO!' Finnegan shouts out.

But one second is also enough time for him to lose focus.

To be overpowered.

Jacob pushes Finnegan off him to his right, and then pins him down.

I run forwards with all the speed and strength I can muster from within me, but it's not enough. Jacob pulls a knife from a pocket inside his jacket.

Then he swiftly stabs Finnegan in the heart.

Without a thought.

Finnegan's body falls limp.

His cannon fires, but doesn't sound right to my ears.

Jacob looks victorious, but then defeated. He's let the Capitol control him like a puppet. In their own way.

I stand there, unfeeling, for moments. And moments. Finnegan's face shown in the sky seconds after his death just hits me with how real it really is.

'NO! NO! NO!' I scream. 'WHY?! WHY HIM?!'

I fall to my knees amongst the grass. I welcome death with open arms right now.

Even though I'd be guaranteed hell, if I were religious.

I bash the ground with my fists to release the pain.

It seems unreal to me.

How can Finnegan be gone?

He's not, is he?

I feel completely torn with pain. Emotional pain and anguish and physical pain. As I fell I stabbed myself.

But I don't care. I don't care anymore.

'Kill me,' I plead with Jacob. 'Kill me, please.'

He looks at a loss. Not teasing me for losing Finnegan. He says nothing.

He looks... regretful.

'I'm not going home,' he says quietly, but just loud enough to be audible.

I curl into a ball on the ground. Something kill me. Someone kill me. Please. Just end the pain. I can't live on this Earth when Finnegan isn't.

When he isn't living, and breathing the same air as I do.

'Why is he gone? _WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM FROM THE WORLD_?' I shout, throwing my spear to a random place. It doesn't hit Jacob. I don't want it to. Enough death and destruction.

I pull myself to my feet, stumbling to where Finnegan lies.

The lifeless look in his eyes makes yet more grief flood through me.

I have to say goodbye. Can I bring myself to say goodbye?

I look around myself, then up at Jacob. He took Finnegan away from me. I should be feeling anger at him, but I feel none. I did for a brief moment when I just shouted, but no more. Just pain and sorrow. So much sorrow.

I see Jacob slip another knife out of his inside pocket.

'What are you doing?' I manage to choke out.

'Good luck,' he says.

'What–' My words die in my throat. I know what he's about to do now, and I don't wish to see. I want to say goodbye to Finnegan. It's most likely the only chance I'll ever get.

I turn back to him. His dead body.

Oh, he's still so beautiful, even in death.

His brown hair. His eyes. They're eerily empty, but still breathtaking. Green, but flecked with little specks of gold.

I run my hand over his face. He's still warm.

It takes all my being to hold back a sob.

What happened to being strong?

'Goodbye Finnegan,' I manage to say, only hiccuping a little.

I pull the knife from his chest, throwing it away from me. The very item repulses me.

I throw all my weapons away from me.

Jacob's cannon fires. He must've slit his throat, he doesn't make any noises of pain.

I'm the winner of the Hunger Games. I really couldn't care at all. What will I be returning to? A life without Finnegan. A life where I bear the burden of murder.

I wish I could just kill myself now, but that'd just be cowardice. I'd be remembered as a coward.

I have to do this, for Finnegan.

I get to my feet and look down at Finnegan. I pull off my jacket and place it delicately over him. He could almost be sleeping.

But that's the point. He's not. I'm not going to try to pass his death off as anything else. I wish I could.

The hovercraft hasn't arrived yet. My goodbye must be pulling in a lot of viewers.

I'm about to break down, I can feel it raising up within me. But I kneel down one more time beside him. I'm not finished yet. It doesn't feel right.

'I'm so sorry,' I whisper to him. I hope the cameras can't pick this up. 'I am so so sorry. I let you down.' The sobs begin to come, but between them I can spit out words. 'You deserved to live so much more than I did. But instead you got a release from this world. That's good in a way, isn't it? Everyone still loves you down here, they always will. Your family will, your friends will, I will. I always will, in some way. I love you, Finnegan. And I'm not particularly religious in any way, but I hope that if you're up there, in spirit, somehow, you will look down and be able to acknowledge what I'm saying.' I begin to sob really hard. My body shakes. 'I'll never forget you, as long as I live. Goodbye, Finnegan Goldsmith.'

I stand up, for good this time, and walk off toward the Cornucopia. It doesn't seem to take too long.

My steps get heavier and heavier as it all sinks in. Finnegan is gone.

He's gone.

He isn't going to just magically reappear.

He. Is. Gone.

Forever.

I fall onto the ground by the Cornucopia and await my hovercraft. It takes just a minute to appear above me. A ladder swings down from above and I grab onto it.

Into another part of the Games now.

Hell isn't over yet.

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It's over! A sequel to this fan fiction will be coming soon, and I still appreciate reviews and favourites on this fan fiction very much. Thank you for sticking with me and reading! I'm up at 3am writing this, so I might be a bit dopey in my writing, excuse me. Again, thank you so much for reading.


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